


The Prophecy

by kalkoenvsneoklak



Series: Prophecies [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Dean, Established Relationship, Female Dean Winchester, Gabriel in a female vessel, Hell Flashbacks, Human Crowley, Married Castiel/Dean Winchester, Memory Loss, Mild Sexual Content, Multi, Nephilim, Panic Attacks, Pregnancy, Prophecies, Psychosis, Sick Dean Winchester, Temporal Genderswap, Temporary Character Death, Top Castiel, Top Dean, flashbacks of Hell, kind of, psychotic Angel, season 8 episode 23 Sacrifice, since he's temporarily a woman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-10 01:17:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 30
Words: 368,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3271397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalkoenvsneoklak/pseuds/kalkoenvsneoklak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the sixth day of the seventh month, a child, born of an Angel and a Righteous soul, shall bring peace to all the realms, becoming the new ruler of them all. Alongside both parents, they shall maintain order to the worlds, and when the time is right, it is this child that shall become the new deity the human race shall worship. So is God’s will, and so it shall be.</p><p>After deciding not to close the gates of Heaven, Castiel finds out he's dodged a bullet. Either way, his relationship with Dean has finally been established, Heaven has welcomed Castiel back, and despite a few internal setbacks, things are looking good. But these good things can't last of course.<br/>Sam, Dean and Castiel try to escape the new fate Heaven seems to have written down for them, only this time, God seems intent on making this Prophecy happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I've been with this story since I began shipping Destiel in October 2013, and I really hope I can write it down the same way I'm imagining it in my head. The story follows the series up until season 8, episode 23. Castiel and Dean decide NOT to take the Cupid's bow, and from there on, things differ from the show.  
> A few of the basic hunts of season 9 will still happen (such as Slumber Party, Dog Dean Afternoon, Bad Boys, Rock and a hard place, Sharp Teeth, The Purge, Thinman, Alex Anie Alexis Ann, and season 10 Paper Moon, Fan Fiction, Ask Jeeves, etc.... From the Season 10-hunts, Dean will be a woman. Castiel will often be present in the hunts as well, but only if it's really adding something to the plot. Otherwise, the hunts will be mentioned rather than fully written down.  
> The Rape/Non-con is added for the flashbacks Dean has of Hell, which will cause him panic attacks throughout the story. So with this, you're warned.  
> 

 

 

 

It’s three in the morning when Kevin Tran starts writing.

He simply get up from bed, takes a place at his desk, and scribbles down symbols any other human soul wouldn’t even dream to understand. Hell, coming to think of it, even _he_ doesn’t really understand what he’s writing down. All he knows is that _not_ writing it down doesn’t seem like a good idea at all. He just literally _can’t_ stop doing it now that he's begun.

The symbols go on and on, forming through every single twist and turn from the pen in his hand, and eventually he finishes, sitting back in his chair in the Bunker library.

How did he even get there?

 

 

Kevin gets ready to head back to bed, blaming his sudden appearance in the library as another strange Prophet-thing, and he knows he shouldn’t question it too hard - at least for now. As soon as he’s at the door, a figure appears in front of him. It’s a girl, about his age, with long black curls and serious brown eyes. She's tiny compared to him, with a round face and broad shoulders, but still looking much like any high-school girl would look like. 

“How did you-?” he asks, but the girl holds up her hand to stop him from speaking further. Kevin closes his mouth, finding himself somewhat intrigued by her without really knowing why.

“Dean Winchester and the Angel Castiel, where do I find them?” she asks, making a lollipop appear from her pocket and putting it in her mouth. So, okay, she might have looked terrifying for a moment when she just appeared, but now Kevin’s heart slows its fast beating again and he smiles down at the petite girl.

“Who wants to know?” Kevin asks, unknowingly putting up a flirting tone - she can't be younger than sixteen, for crying out loud, and this can't be anything other than a dream! He doesn't even remember that he should be questioning her on how she even got in while the whole place is on lock-down. This all is happening in his head anyway, since pretty girls wouldn't just appear out of nowhere. This can't be anything other than one of those strange fantasies of his, though this one might literally be the strangest of them all. Hot girl: check. Lollipop and sudden interest in a newlywed couple existing of a hunter and an Angel: not so much something that happens often.

“That’s for me to know and for you to _not_ know,” she says, sounding literally disinterested.

“Uh, I'm pretty sure the saying should say 'for you to find out'” the Prophet corrects her only to be ignored. Kevin eventually then shrugs, realising that teasing won't help him at all in this strange dream. Maybe it's just getting closer to a nightmare, if she's going to keep on bringing up Dean and Castiel. Not that Kevin doesn't like them, but he doesn't need them right here, really. “They’ve been on their honeymoon for about a month now,” he finally explains. “Not sure where they are or when they’ll even return.”

The girl looks him straight in the eye, raising an eyebrow and eventually pulling the lollipop out of her mouth. Man, that was disturbingly _hot_. Why is Kevin feeling so warm all over?

“I see,” she says. Then she walks to the table where Kevin has left the notes he just wrote down, and picks them up to study them quietly. “I must take the prophecy with me now, but I need to find those two soon."

 

 

“Why?” Kevin asks.

“Because it’s about them after all,” the girl says, putting the lollipop back into her mouth and folding the papers, winking at Kevin and then eventually disappearing the same way Castiel would do when he flies away.

He just shrugs it off as one of the strangest and most vivid dreams he’s ever had and returns to bed.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_On the sixth day of the seventh month, a child, born of an Angel and a Righteous soul, will bring peace to all the realms, becoming the new ruler of them all. Alongside both parents, they shall maintain order to the worlds, and when the time is right, it is this child that has to become the new deity the human race will worship. So is God’s will, and so it shall be._


	2. Can you spell 'love'?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the story takes another turn and everything changes for the good.

_One year earlier_   
_Houston, Texas_   
_Outside Dwight’s bar_

 

Finding the Cupid has turned out differently than Dean would have anticipated. Sure, okay, it’s not as if he’s really been expecting anything extraordinary or anything, but the Cupid bringing together the barman with his own customer isn't exactly what what he had in mind, to be really honest. But, as it turns out, things can't always be predictable, and the way the two men look at each other is enough proof of that. The woman is the Cupid, and she just matched the two men together, simply by touching their shoulders and offering them a smile.

Huh, so sexual orientation really isn’t any trouble upstairs, Dean realizes. That answers a lot of questions. Of course, it also proves a ton of religious homophobic people wrong. Not that he can spread around the word, of course, since nobody in their right mind would believe him.

What _is_ to be expected, though, is that Cas jumps into action the moment they face the Cupid. To Dean’s greatest dismay, he understands that this little trait of his is something the guy actually took over from him. So after stopping Cas from charging against the Cupid by grabbing a hold of the Angel's right arm, they turn to talking instead. Cas pulls his sword back, relaxes his muscles underneath Dean’s hand where the hunter is still holding him, and he starts explaining.

“You think you can fix that?” the Cupid asks curiously after hearing the plan. She looks at the Seraph in front of her with a curious expression, head slightly tilted to the side and eyebrows close to a frown but still not completely. That’s the way Angels always stare, Dean has long since realized; as if they are trying to solve every mystery of another being by studying them with this great and profound intensity. Next to Dean, Cas hardens his expression somehow, clamping his jaw shut as he furrows his eyebrows; frowning – which of course is the way Cas practically always looks, so there isn’t much difference in that.

“In time, yes,” he says after a short moment of silent thinking, and Dean’s eyes stray away from the Cupid – no, Gail – to Cas' profile. Dean can see how hard the Angel’s expression is. It’s his ‘I-have-a-mission-and-I-will-not-fail’-expression, and once he has gotten himself to that state, there isn’t much that will make him change his mind about the mission. For a moment, Dean searches for any cracks, _any_ indication that, no, Cas isn’t really a hundred percent sure that he wants to do this. That he’s hesitating about shutting the doors and never returning to an Earth where Dean and Sam would be present.

When he gives up the search, his gaze turns back to Gail, not really sure what he’s looking for. For a moment, their eyes meet, and somehow Dean feels like she’s inspecting him, trying to figure him out. It’s as if she’s seeing something in Dean nobody else can. Her face has a knowing look, and Dean has the feeling that he should feel embarrassed about it, though as for the reason why he would have to be, that's still unclear.

“Are you willing to leave this man forever for this cause, then?” Gail asks as she turns her head away to peer into the emptiness of the streets. Both the Angel and the hunter raise their eyebrows at the question, because what is this Angel implying here? For a moment, they make eye-contact, both coming to a silent agreement that neither understand the hidden message in her words. Then she continues as she pushes herself off the rail she was leaning against. She subtly tilts her head a little bit, this time to the other side, and it’s _so_ completely different from when Cas does it. “You’ll never see him again, you do realize that, right?”

Castiel’s strong expression falls quickly as the words come through. The hard lines that were all over his face disappear, and his shoulders seem to drop as his gaze turns to Dean for a little second. The hunter could swear there’s some strange, unknown emotion to be found in his expression, which is weird since Castiel isn’t really one to show much emotion in anything that happens around him. The way the Cupid seems to stare at him unnerves him as well. What is her problem? Why doesn’t she just give him the bow and let things be how they’re supposed to be?

“I understand, yes,” Cas finally mutters as he puts up another blank face, lifting his chin up in an attempt to look like it doesn’t bother him at all that, no, he won’t be seeing Dean again anytime soon. Then there’s an uncomfortable silence between them all, and Dean takes that time to _really_ look at Cas. The way this man – no, this Angel – has changed throughout the years is just proof that Cas isn’t like any of the other Angels. Cas cares on a level that no other Angel has ever managed to do.

Despite the fact that he doesn't age, his borrowed face looks a slightly older than when Dean first met him, as if the burden of his sins is following him, haunting him. Now, Dean won’t ever dare to deny that Cas _hasn’t_ done bad things. Nobody will or should. But despite the _good_ he has also done next to all of that bad, Cas looks broken, sad most of the times. Dean can understand where that sentiment might come from, the feeling of such pressure that has been on the Angel’s shoulder for all these years he’s tried to redeem himself, trying to do the right thing but ending up doing something worse. The fear that going back home would kill him.

Yeah, that’s actually kind of the family business.

Because, despite all the shit-ass trouble it has brought them, that’s what Cas is now; _family_. He’s that extra member of their little team that Dean has grown so used to in these past few years. That extra pair of eyes that keep close watch on the him and his little brother whenever trouble may be ahead. And that same person that Dean has gotten so used to now is just at the point of leaving for ever, with no possible way of there ever being any form of reunion that doesn’t involve Dean dying and ascending into Heaven when his time is up.

And when Dean tries to imagine a world without Cas, he finds that his heart flips over, leaving him with an empty feeling in his chest that seems to chew away the rest of his insides.  All he can think of is that hug they shared in Purgatory, those small conversations in the motel-room while Sam was out. The way he smiled at him when he said he wanted to become a Hunter back at the tank station. The smallest of touches they have shared in that way-too-short time they’ve spend together.

But Dean can’t speak, because Cas wants to save _his_ family while he still can. And who is Dean to deny him that?

“Are you sure that’s what you really want, Castiel?” Gail asks as she marches closer to both of them. She's still watching them intently as her feet move her forward, “Because the heart wants what the heart wants, and it’s okay to be selfish when it comes to the matters of love.”

In the corner of his eyes Dean can see Cas look up in horror. He could be wrong, but the Angel’s face seems to have a strange shade of red and his eyes have grown open wide. His mouth drops open, but except for a few gasps of breath nothing comes out. Dean doesn’t like that helpless look on Cas' face. Despite that, her words have caught his attention.

“What’re you talking about?” he asks.

“Dean, do you want Castiel to go?”

“Well, no, but-…” and then he stops, because it’s like those words have crawled out of his mouth without any permission. “Eh-,” Dean breathes out, feeling his face reddening at the realization that he just let this one thing he was going to keep quiet slip out anyway. With another frown, Castiel turns his head to Dean’s direction. He doesn’t look disturbed though; the surprise is clearly written on his face, but in this form it’s more like disbelief rather than annoyance. “I mean…” Dean tries, but he can’t come up with anything.

“Listen, I want Heaven to be restored as it’s supposed to be as well, but it’s no longer your battle,” Gail starts to explain with a serious face. “You need to think about yourself for once, and trust that we’ll work it out when the time is right.”

For a moment, Dean and Castiel turn to look at each other, eyes connecting and unwilling to let each other go. Castiel looks kind of hopeless, as if he’s anxious about something.

 

 

Then, Gail looks at Dean again, raising her head with a smile.

“The same counts for you, Dean Winchester. Think about yourself this one time, you might regret it later if you don’t.”

And then she flies away, the flapping sound of wings the only indication of her departure. Dean and Cas don’t even see it happening, because all they see is each other.

And for now, that’s enough.

 

* * *

 

_Sioux Falls, South Dakota  
Two hours later_

“What do you mean you’re not closing the gates of Heaven?” a very healthy-looking Sam asks when the two arrive back at the church. All Dean can do is shrug, and Cas just looks straight ahead like he does most of the time. “What about restoring order upstairs?”

“We just decided to leave the details to the other Angels,” Dean says as he leans against the Impala, turning to look at the Angel who bites his lip – a very human thing to do, Sam notes – and lowers his head. The two have their hands hidden inside their pockets. Sam notices how Dean smirks at Cas' after giving him a short look, eyes studying the Angel deeply.

“But… Cas? You were all about cleaning up your mess? Why change your mind?”

And now the Angel looks back at Dean with a fond expression in his eyes, giving him a little smile in return. Is it Sam, or is he blushing? Do Angels even blush? What the hell is happening here?

“I’ve been instructed to be a little bit selfish. I’m simply following orders,” Cas answers, leaving Sam with an even bigger question now. Just when he’s about to ask, Dean beats him to it.

“Since when do you take orders from a Cupid?” he asks with a wide smile on his face, and is Sam hallucinating or are those two standing really close to each other. And that look on Dean’s face – oh, that’s his flirting-look. Is he flirting with the Angel? Sam is absolutely sure there's something going on that he's missing.

“Okay, I’m simply following her suggestion then,” Cas corrects, and then they both smile at each other again. That ends up being the tipping point for Sam, whose mouth falls open in surprise. A soft gasp escapes, and he feels his eyes widen when he finally connects the points.

“Wait… are you-,” Sam starts, not really sure if he would survive the consequences that would come if he’s wrong, “...are you two together?” he finally dares asking while grinning, pointing first at Dean and then at Cas. Dean’s expression changes into one of shock at Sam’s words, but Cas' smile only grows wider.

“Your brother and I have decided to take our friendship to a next level, if that’s what you’re asking,” he answers, and now Dean looks at Cas again, eyes wide, mouth fallen open and breath stuck in his throat.

“Dude, I thought we were going to keep this quiet until we were sure it would work out?” Dean bites out, pushing himself off the car as he turns to the Angel.

“But Dean,” Cas starts, putting up the weirdest and most innocent face he’s ever made. “I’m not planning on this not working out,” Cas answers, and okay, that appears to be the right answer. Dean’s smile returns, his cheeks turn red again, and his eyes find the ground.

“Aww, how cute,” Sam can’t help but saying, grinning like a crazy person as he sees the scene before him. “You two finally pulled your heads out of your asses… It’s about time.”

And Dean turns his head towards his brother with a playful grin written all over his face, cheeks still red from all the attention he’s suddenly getting. Sam figures he’s probably not embarrassed about the two of them being together, but more because it’s put in such a sudden spotlight. Relationships have never really been a big deal for Dean, but right here, it seems different. It _feels_ different, too; lighter, somehow. Even Sam knows that this is something else, but that's probably because he's been living with the two for a few years, and has been one of the permanent victims of their constant denial.

“Shut up, bitch,” Dean says, and though it’s subtle, Sam can see how Cas reaches his hand up to touch Dean’s, fingers resting against each other without there being any actual handholding. It’s endearing how Cas seems to yearn for that touch, but on the other hand it's perfect teasing material

“Jerk,” Sam answers automatically, feeling his face soften in an expression of pride. Because that’s exactly what he’s feeling; proud. Here stands his big brother, practically holding hands with the Angel that must have been in love with him for quite some time now, and the hunter isn’t even looking panicked in the slightest.

A small sound appears from over his shoulder, but it’s only thanks to the expression on the faces of Dean and Cas that Sam realizes they're no longer alone.

“There’s someone behind me, isn’t there?” he asks, almost annoyed that they can’t even catch a break. He glances behind over his shoulder, trying to find what has those other two looking so disturbed in this moment of peace they're having.

Of course, standing there is the smartly dressed Angel that helped them to release Bobby’s soul into Heaven. Naomi, Sam thinks her name was. Out of reflex Sam reaches for his gun, knowing very well that the bullets inside won’t hurt her in the slightest.

Behind Sam, Cas is literally fuming, face darkening in the threatening expression that the hunters have come to call Cas' smiting-face.

“I’m not here to fight you, Castiel,” Naomi says, only earning her a furious glare from Cas. His jaws locks tightly, and if it wasn’t for Dean’s hand on his arm, the Angel would probably already be charging at her. “Not anymore,” she then adds, holding her hands out as if she’s surrendering.

“You took Metatron,” Cas grumbles, voice almost as deadly as his face. “Where is he?”

Naomi takes a small step forward, but doesn’t come any further than that because Cas is literally growling behind Sam, which is kind of disturbing. The Angel is  _really_ angry, so it seems.

“He told you he was going to save Heaven, didn’t he?” Naomi starts. “Murdering a Nephilim? Cutting off a Cupid’s bow? It’s a lie, all of it. I’ve been in his head-,”

“ _You’ve been in_ _all_ _our heads! That’s the problem!_ ” Cas shouts as he charges forward, but the hand on his arm reaches up to rest against the Angel's chest, grounding him and pushing him back against the car.

“Cas, calm down,” Dean says, in such a calming, yet strange way that even Sam has to turn around to see what exactly is happening. “Listen, there’s no need to worry, we stopped the trials,” Dean finally explains after Cas shakes his shoulders free and slumps back against the car.

“Those weren’t trials,” Naomi countered. “Ask your prophet to see what the tablet says.”

And she has a point, because Dean has mentioned that Kevin is busy translating the tablet in an attempt to find out what the third trial would have been. Sam isn’t even that surprised when Dean turns to him, telling him to call Kevin.

“Right,” Sam answers, reaching for his cellphone as Naomi continues talking.

“Metatron wasn’t trying to fix Heaven, he was trying to break it,” comes out, but her voice sounds sad, desperate. Sam can see that she’s really trying to sound convincing.

“Okay, it’s not like we’re suddenly on your side, now,” Dean says without removing his hand from Cas' chest. “But whatever Metatron was planning, Cas stopped participating.”

“So you didn’t take the Cupid’s bow?”

“We didn’t,” Dean says, and Sam misses whatever else is said when his call finally comes through. Kevin sounds tired as hell, voice cracking as he speaks.

“I think I found the Angel trials, but I don’t see anything about a Nephilim or a Cupid’s bow or anything like that,” is the first thing the Prophet says even before Sam can ask. So Sam turns back around, closing in on the others with the phone still pressed against his ear, though Kevin doesn’t say another thing, probably having fallen asleep.

"Kevin?" Sam asks, a little worried for the Prophet's well-being. When all he hears is a groan and then a moan, he figures the headaches are back. It's what Kevin often gets when he's reading the tablet intensely. Sam can only shake his head and hope that the guy can manage for himself until they get back to the bunker. “Kevin says that Metatron’s trials don’t match up with the ones on the tablet,” Sam says as he shoots back a quick thanks to Kevin in case the Prophet is still awake, and then he hangs up. He can see the uncomfortable expression on Cas' face.

“So you’re right,” the Angel says, voice sounding disappointed. Sam can understand, though, because Cas thought he could trust somebody who understands exactly how he's feeling. The feeling of betrayal must be hard on him. Who knows what could have happened if he had gone through with the ‘trials’?

“I told you, you could trust me,” Naomi says, voice thick with relief. “If you really want to know, he was going to cut out your grace, Castiel.”

Sam doesn't really know if Cas' expression is one of anger, or of fear.

“I see that there is no more danger now, I can return to Heaven to deal with Metatron,” Naomi continues, already turning as if she’s going to walk away. “Castiel, you are welcome to return to your old position in Heaven if you want to.”

Cas only nods shortly, leaning a little bit against Dean, though barely. Sam can’t remember ever seeing so much emotion written on his friend’s face.

“And Sam?” Sam looks up, finding that Naomi is still there. “Congratulations on closing the gates of Hell.”

Everybody smiles at that, because indeed; congratulations are in order. No more Demons? That’s one _big_ accomplishment, and even Sam knows that.

After that, Naomi leaves with the fluttering of wings.

In the church, Crowley starts crying again.

 

* * *

 

 

_Heaven, one day later_

It’s not without hesitation that Castiel returns back to the place he once used to call home; Heaven. At first he’d been unwilling to go, not sure if he was ready to face the other Angels again after almost being the cause of the destruction of their home.

In the end, it's Dean that has gotten into him.

“Listen, Cas, Naomi invited you back up, which means that you get a new start. If you want to go back for a while, go back, see how Heaven will be restored and help out whenever it’s necessary,” Dean has said.

And now that he’s back where he has been practically all of his existence, he finds that he has another reason return.

He needs to face Metatron.

So here he is, standing outside the entrance of the dungeons where Inias has lead him to, lingering a little bit as he tries to postpone the inevitable confrontation.

“He’s been waiting for you,” Inias suddenly says, and Castiel startles as he realizes that the Angel is still standing behind him. Inias looks friendly enough, and Castiel remembers that the last time they saw each other, Castiel was crazy. He's glad that Inias didn't end up the same fate as the Angels that went to help Kevin about two years ago.

“That’s what I was fearing,” Castiel confesses, sighing loudly as his hand reaches for the door. With a gentle push, it flies open.

The dungeons are as they have always been, dark walls but with a light atmosphere at the same time. It's unbreakable from the inside, nor on the outside. No-one has ever managed to escape so far, and it should really stay that way.

The moment Metatron sees Castiel approach, the Scribe grins widely. Castiel is glad that Inias has followed him inside, because he doesn’t know if he can keep himself from throwing his blade at the Angel inside.

“Well hello, Castiel,” Metatron says. Despite that his plans have failed, he doesn’t sound disappointed in any way. Castiel doesn’t like it. Metatron sounds way too pleased for a prisoner. “I was wondering when you would show up. You missed our little appointment.”

Castiel frowns and throws one look back at Inias, who only shrugs, blade ready in case Metatron would try something stupid.

“I have not come here for your riddles,” Castiel finally says, keeping his head up high in a way to look superior to the Scribe. “I just need to know why.”

“You know why,” Metatron bites, suddenly less calm. His voice is trembling, and he’s shaking his head rather quickly. His tongue passes over his lips and a deep but unnecessary breath passes through his vessel’s lungs. “I was hunted out of my home, and I simply wanted it back! If I had to get you all out of it to succeed that, so be it.”

Castiel doesn’t answer when Metatron stops speaking, simply because he has nothing to add. Or maybe that’s not true; he does still want to know why he was chosen for this task. Why did it have to be Castiel?

It appears that the question can be read from Castiel’s face, because Metatron answers it for him.

“Couldn’t connect the dots, Castiel?” Metatron sounds too smug, but he also sounds insane at the same time. He lies back down on the stone that represents itself as a bed – which isn’t really something an Angel would need as they don’t sleep. “A _N_ _ephilim_?  A _Cupid’s_ bow? You can spell, right? L, O, V and E, what does that spell?”

Castiel frowns again, not really wanting to give Metatron the satisfaction of giving him an answer. He doesn’t want to play along with his childish games, so he keeps his lips sealed tightly.

“Love?” Inias answers for him hesitantly.

Metatron sits back up, holding out his hands in a agreeing way. “Love,” he repeats.

“What does love have to do with it?” Castiel asks in a growl, causing Metatron to shake his head in a dismissive way.

“You’re hopeless,” he says. “I needed your Grace because it is the Grace of an Angel who has felt a love differently from the way we were _supposed_ to love.”

“What are you implying here?” Castiel asks, although he can almost guess what it’s all about here.

“Us, Angels, we have love programmed into ourselves,” Metatron explains. “We love our Father, we love the other Angels, and we love humanity.”

“So?”

“So, you don’t just _love_ humanity; you’re _in_ love with it, or more precisely, in love with our precious little Righteous Man down there.”

Castiel nods in understanding, but turns his head away, giving Inias a quick look. The other Angel nods as well, offering a small smile as he accepts whatever Metatron is accusing Castiel of, whilst other Angels would have been disgusted.

“What, you’re not going to prove me wrong?” Metatron asks from the moment Castiel takes his first step towards the doors of the dungeon. Immediately, Castiel stills, casting a look over his shoulder to meet Metatron’s gaze.

“My love for Dean has never been a secret,” Castiel says. And then a smile forms on his lips as the words come out. Because he loves Dean, and they’re together now. And Castiel already longs to return back to Earth, to get to feel Dean’s lips against his own for the first time.

With a fast goodbye he greets Inias once more, ignoring Metatron shouting back at him. Then he takes flight. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The connections of Metatron's spell is based on that well-known headcanon that the spell is completely connected by love and all that. I'm sure by now everybody knows about it. 
> 
> And I brought Inias back because it is never said that he died, and I like Inias. He's cool.  
> INIAS FOR EVERRR
> 
> Okay, sorry, I should go to sleep now


	3. More people know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm so sorry, this update took longer than I had anticipated. I was hoping on going for weekly updates, but then suddenly real life happened (aka, school started again, had to visit my grandmother in another country, etc...)  
> Anyways, here's the chapter, a lot shorter than I had planned, but because of the delay I didn't want to keep this story any longer without a new update. The original plan was to have Dog Dean Afternoon merged in this chapter as well. Clearly, it will be in the next episode.

_Men of Letters HQ  
_ _Lebanon, Kansas._

 

For the first few days, all Crowley does is cry.

He cries when he wakes up, cries when he’s finished eating his dinner, and he cries at the smallest insult that passes in a dialogue during another Dr. Sexy episode.

Taking the very emotional Crowley in the bunker had been one of Sam’s genius ideas, to which both Dean and Kevin had greatly disagreed on when he first came up with it. At this point, the last thing they need is a depressed ex-demon bursting into tears with every word that is spoken against him.

“We can’t just leave him in the world like that? Who knows what he’ll do to himself!” Sam had shouted.

“After everything he’s done, he should be lucky we don’t cut his throat!” Dean had countered. Crowley had cried at that.

“We don’t kill humans,” Sam finally said, putting that whole discussion to a rest.

So the moment they had arrived at the bunker, Sam had lead Crowley to one of the empty bedrooms, offering him the stuff he needed, and they left him alone after that.

Crowley, on his turn, keeps away from everybody. It’s not sure whether it’s because he’s shy, or because he’s embarrassed. It could also be because he secretly despises everybody around him – hey, the guy was a dick before he even became a demon, so it’s safe to say that the moment he gets back on his feet, he will most likely have his ‘charming’ personality back.

Kevin, in the meantime, is again reunited with his mother – who is miraculously still alive. Both hunters agreed to let him stay with her while he recovers from the side-effects of intensive tablet reading; for some reason he keeps on saying ‘falafe’ according to Dean, whatever that means.

So, here they finally are; back in the bunker. Crowley is who knows where crying away all his sorrows of his past sins. Cas still hasn’t returned from Heaven since he went to question Metatron, though they know he’s only one prayer away. And Dean and Sam are both completely fine for once, finally enjoying this little free time they have before the storm of hunting hits again.

Of course, Dean’s idea of ‘free time’ is mostly seen as watching some movies, a whole season of Game of Thrones, or even just having a drink with his brother. Sam’s idea is slightly different, though.

The moment Dean arrives back home from driving Kevin and Mrs. Tran, the little shit starts.

 _Talking_ …

“Heard from Cas?”

Dean stops walking forward as he hears the question they’ve both so wonderfully avoided in the past few days. It hasn’t even been a week and Sam already gets nosy.

It’s not that Dean is angry that Cas isn’t with them, heck, he’s the one who convinced the Angel to go in the first place. The thing that gets him anxious about this talk is the reality that he and Cas are actually in fact together now. There’s no denying it anymore - not that Dean wants that, anyway.

Dean isn’t second guessing his newly build relationship with Cas, not at all. But that doesn’t mean that he’s immediately open to talk about it.

“No, Sam. I’m not praying to him unless we have a good reason for it,” Dean says as he drops the bag with his new DVD-box of Game of Thrones. He ignores the annoyed expression he receives from his brother and drops his head to the floor.

“Dean…?” Sam asks, and there really isn’t a question, but still Dean knows what his idiot brother means.

“Look, I’m not skipping out on him, and I’m not trying to push him away either!” Dean snaps, throwing his arms in the air in annoyance. “Nobody wants him here more than I do, okay? But he just needed to finish this one thing before he could return home.”

“U-huh,” Sam lets out with his arms crossed and one eyebrow raised. Dean understands why his brother is so skeptic, though. He had once called it _commitment issues_ , and Dean has hated that noun the moment his brother first pronounced it. “Anyway,” Sam suddenly continues, “I found these strange cables underneath this table, and it kind of got me thinking.” At this he points at the table Dean dropped his bag on. Immediately, the older hunter eyes it suspiciously.

“Why the hell were you under that table?” Dean asks, not really needing an answer to that but more in a way to annoy his little brother. He wiggles his eyebrows, which earns him another bitchface in return.

“Dean, your mind is disgusting and I don’t know how Cas is ever going to put up with you,” Sam shoots back. Dean only grins further as he kneels down to check under that table as well. “But to get to the actual point; I followed these cables, and you’re never gonna believe what I found.”

Sam, being an irritating little shit, rather stays mysterious. He nods sideways, and without any explanation he starts walking out of the main room.

“Oh so you’re gonna be all cryptic about this now?” Dean asks, being actually kind of curious as to what Sam has found at the end of these cables they are currently following. They are quite well hidden; neatly tucked back against the border of the floor, kind of camouflaged by the color of the walls painted all over them.

And Sam just keeps on walking. No matter how much Dean insists on his little brother speaking up, the hunter keeps quiet.

Until they finally arrive at a room at the end of a hallway they’ve never really been before. Sam opens up the door, turning on the light before holding out his arms in front of him.

“Voilà,” he says.

Whatever image Dean has been preparing himself for, this is not it. It’s like he’s walked straight into an old science fiction movie where the hero invades the evil doctor’s lab filled with old machinery that was considered modern back in the days.

But at the same time, it kind of looked like some strange control panel from a submarine or whatever.

“This is a computer?” Dean asks as he turns back to his brother slightly. The younger Winchester is tucking the sleeve of his flannel shirt back up.

“Yeah – or it was in 1951 when it was installed,” Sam says. Dean lets his curiosity get the better of him and he starts walking again as he turns to inspect every little thing on these machines a little more closely. Sam follows him while he continues speaking. “Now, here’s the crazy thing; it’s not plugged in to anything and yet these little lights are still burning. I mean, I have no idea what’s making this thing work”

As they get to the back of the computer, Dean passes his hand over the surface of the machine. At first all he feels is the touch of metal, but there’s something more he notices.

“It’s warm here,” Dean says as he frowns. Okay, so his brother is right. Definitely something weird here. Sam reaches his hand out as well to see if Dean is right, which of course, he is.

Dean checks out the backside of the computer a little more closely, seeing that he can pull away the plate to check the control panel from the inside. Immediately, he turns around, seeing if there’s any gear small enough in here that he can use for it.

Luckily for him, on one of the shelves, there’s an old, dusted screwdriver – which, huh, comes in handy, Dean thinks. He takes the thing, stares at it in surprise, but then decides not to question his luck in finding one so easily. He returns to the computer where Sam is still comparing the warmth of the metal to another part of the machine.

When Dean presses the screwdriver in the split, Sam carefully takes a step backwards, keeping his face in a strange worried expression. His eyebrows crook deeper the harder Dean pushes the thing open. After a giant pull, the panel pops off. Dean loses his stand and stumbles back into the shelf behind him. Without either of the boys noticing, a bottle filled with some unknown grey liquid knocks over.

“Got it,” Dean huffs as he settles down again. Both hunters kneel down in front of the now-opened back of the computer.  Quickly, Sam pulls out a flashlight from his pocket, clicking it on before facing it to the piece of machinery in front of them.

“Huh,” Sam lets out, equally surprised as Dean at seeing the giant amount of new wires and more unknown parts.

Dean feels an uneasy grin come up in his lips. “Well, that looks simple. Does it come with a manual?” he asks sarcastically.

“Nothing in the archives, and I obviously couldn’t find anything like it online,” Sam says while they both still inspect the back of the computer. “Not to mention I’m pretty sure that the Men of Letters don't exactly have I.T. support anymore, either.”

For a moment, both men stay quiet as Dean thinks.

“I think I know somebody who could help up,” he finally says. He starts getting up, earning him a surprised expression from Sam. “Come on.”

“Who? Cas?” the younger hunter asks as he makes his move to stand up as well, already on his way to follow his brother back outside. In response, Dean turns his head around and rolls his eyes at his brother.

“Dude, you really think we should let Cas toy around with these devices? He would probably break it by simply touching it, knowing his luck.”

Sam only shrugs but his lips curl a little upward in amusement.

 

* * *

 

 

_Meanwhile, in Heaven_

Avoiding the dungeon has been Castiel’s main priority since the moment he returned back to his old post. The thing Castiel mainly wants to prevent is to be further manipulated by Metatron’s words and empty promises.

So, even though mostly against his will, Castiel joins Naomi in rebuilding Heaven back to its old self, and attempting to make it even better. Which, of course, isn’t that easy since most of the Angels agree that the biggest reason they even need all this work done is obviously because of Castiel. Even the Angel in question agrees to that, much to his dismay and embarrassment.

So, for now, Castiel practically flies alone, following other Angels around as they try to discuss new measurements that need to be done. Castiel has noticed that some Angels are in an attempt to becoming the new leader of Heaven until their Holy Father returns back from missing, but Castiel knows that putting blind faith in some random Angel who is hungry for power will once again lead to another tiranny in Heaven, which in turn will lead to new situations like with Michael.

Naomi has kept her promise; Castiel has his rank fully restored, and should he want to, he could have his garrison back. In the agreement they made in Heaven, Naomi had expressed that Castiel too could have a say in these meetings that are solely focused on finding better ways to run Heaven.

Her intentions have been good, Castiel understands that, but neither of them have thought of the fact that probably nobody would want to hear his opinion on anything. And so, when they’re all in another discussion as to who should take control until God returns, Castiel’s words not really fall onto deaf ears, but rather get some harsh disagreement in return.

“If we want to avoid another tyranny up here – no offense, of course,” Castiel says, shooting an apologetic glance at Naomi who just waves the possible insult off, “then we shouldn’t just _let_ another Angel, no matter how strong they are, take control of things here. In my opinion, we should let all of us choose who could become the better leader. Each of us have good ideas, but also some things others might disagree on, so instead of forcing these things on others, let them choose themselves?”

“So what, have an election? Is _that_ what you’re saying here?” Malachi asks with obvious disgust layered over his voice. He is not inside a vessel, but Castiel can read the emotions on his many faces quite well. His Grace seems to be burning, giving Castiel an uncomfortable feeling.

“That is such a _human_ thing to do,” Bartholomew adds to it, face also scrunched in a look of dismay and horror. “Why should we lower ourselves in such an act?”

“Yes, it is indeed how most countries on Earth decide to do it,” Castiel says, not liking how his voice seems to shiver for a moment. “But it has proven that it works; candidates present the citizens what they want to to make their country; what they want to change or remove completely. In the end it’s the people who choose what plan of action they want the most.”

“Yes, but those candidates often lie; we all know most of their promises are out of their capability!” Malachi bites. From his bear face, a loud growl comes out. In return, other Angels start to hiss back at him because of his sudden outburst. “Not to add that the candidate with the most votes wins in the end, so there will be a big part that won’t get what they want.”

“But Castiel has a point,” suddenly comes out at the end of the table. In surprise, most Angels turn around, to find Ezekiel stare at Castiel with interest. “Everybody who wants to try to run can make their own plan of action, then they will present it to other Angels, and eventually the Angels will decide what will be best for them. Yeah, indeed some Angels will vote for the one who won’t win, but in the end it might be clear that the better solution wins, right?”

The table remains in a thick silence after that, but not because they are actually thinking about it. Even Castiel has to admit he’s currently speechless from the turn of events that have suddenly happened.

Then, Naomi finally speaks up, breaking that awkward silence. “How about we let this proposition sink in for a moment, and we’ll continue this meeting later? Because right now we won’t be able to find an answer as long as nobody has thought this through.”

And everybody nods, then, already flying away before Castiel could even get up. He knows, though, that it’s because of him that they get away that quickly. They don’t want him here, and he could totally understand that. Still, that doesn’t mean that it isn’t hurtful.

To his biggest relief, Ezekiel is still present. Quickly, Castiel hurries back to him. The Angel’s grace is shining brightly, so at least he doesn’t seem annoyed or anything from Castiel’s presence.

“Ezekiel,” Castiel begins, which earns him the attention of the Angel in question.

“Castiel,” he greets in all the politeness Castiel never really thought he could receive by now.

“I just wanted to thank you for giving my idea a chance,” Castiel says, slightly bowing his head in a thankful way. Ezekiel seems amused by what he said.

“Your idea was a good one, Castiel,” Ezekiel says. “I know you have had trouble when trying to fix our home, but I think you’ll find it’ll be easier if you let other Angels help you.”

Castiel nods, agreeing at last that maybe indeed he doesn’t have to be Heaven’s savior all on his own.

“But don’t you have a human to return to? We’ll alert you when this meeting continues,” Ezekiel continues, nodding at Castiel in return. Castiel feels his lips curl upward into a smile, which surprises him. Ezekiel is right; he must have been gone for a while now. It would be great to finally see Dean again.

“You’re right. Thank you, Ezekiel,” Castiel says, already preparing his wings for flight. After receiving another friendly nod from the other Angel, Castiel finally moves to the air, letting the wind go through the feathers of his wings.

It doesn’t take much thinking for him to set course for Earth, and as soon as he gets there, he focuses on the Bunker, which is located in Lebanon, Kansas. Touching the ground gives him some feeling of relief, but that’s probably just because he’s close to Dean again.

With a quick scan of the bunker, Castiel can make out that there are four humans currently present inside; Dean, Sam, Kevin and probably Crowley as well, Castiel figures. Of course, he doesn’t pay much attention to the other souls, but follows Dean’s instead.

Of course, to spare Dean the ‘heart attack’, as he likes to call it, Castiel decides to walk. The pull from Dean’s soul gets stronger when he gets closer to the kitchen, so Castiel figures he’s preparing dinner or something.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel says after closing the door behind him loud enough. With a sudden turn, Dean faces Castiel. His eyes are wide and his mouth has dropped open. Whatever he’s preparing, he’s dropping it to walk closer to the Angel.

“Cas, you’re home,” Dean says, sounding relieved as he speaks, which is kind of comforting. When Dean’s arms wrap around him in a strong hug, Castiel leans into the touch. His head rests on Dean’s shoulder. A small smile appears on his face when he gladly accepts the warm, fluttering feeling in his stomach.

“Only for a little while, but I don’t think it will take any longer now,” Castiel explains, not letting go of Dean.

“So, how’s Heaven?” Dean asks against Castiel’s ear. His hand slowly passes over his back, and they finally pull back slightly, only to look each other in the eyes. Castiel can feel Dean’s breath pass over his skin. They’ve never been this close before since this thing started between them last week, but Castiel really likes this.

“It’s okay,” Castiel says, not wanting to worry Dean with the current situation upstairs. Instead he lets his hand find Dean’s, and he tangles their fingers together.

“Hey, we were going to watch _Game of Thrones_ ,” Dean suddenly says, pulling back from Castiel completely, leaving Castiel a little taken aback from the sudden distance between their faces. “You want to join?”

If watching whatever Dean speaks of means that they can spend some time together, Castiel won’t really find it in himself to say no. So, that’s how they get themselves in Sam’s bedroom with the TV put in front of the bed. Castiel gets introduced to this eccentric woman called Charlie, and he gets a friendly hug from Sam, who seems glad as well that he’s returned. Castiel is seated between Dean and Charlie, but Sam seems to have chosen his desk chair instead – which is only good because the three of them only fit on the bed because Castiel is pressed so close against Dean.

The episode they’re watching is not really what Castiel would have expected, but he has to admit that it’s really good. So, the first episode turns into the second one, and by the time they’ve gotten to the third, Dean pauses when the end-credits appear.

“Wow, that Joffrey’s a dick,” Dean suddenly says, and Castiel suddenly sits up again. Without being aware of it he’s been leaning his head against Dean’s shoulder.

“Oh, you have no idea,” Charlie says with a laugh. “Wait until he-…”

“Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa!” Sam suddenly calls out, earning everybody’s attention. “Spoilers! I haven’t read all the books yet!”

“There are books?” Castiel asks in a frown.

“You’re gonna read the books?” Dean asks his brother, nudging Castiel playfully against his shoulder, fingers tightening their hold of their fingers interlocked with each other. For a moment, Castiel wants to pull their hands up and press the back of Dean’s against his lips for a quick kiss, but Dean seems intent on keeping their hold hidden between their bodies. Castiel figures it’s because of Charlie; of course Dean wouldn’t be ready to parade their relationship around just yet.

“Yes, Dean, I like to read books,” Sam shoots back. “You know, the ones without pictures?”

At that, Dean throws his brother a very annoyed look, but both Charlie and Castiel laugh at the insult. In protest, Dean pulls his hand free and crosses his arms instead, pretending to sulk from being laughed at.

“Well, anyway, this bed is about as comfortable as a brick,” Charlie suddenly says, and with that she gets up. Both Dean and Castiel look down to check the mattress, and Dean even touches it to check if she’s right. Castiel doesn’t really understand the comparison to a stone. “Any plans on moving in anytime soon?”

Sam seems to be taken aback from that question at first, frowning at Charlie but eventually leaning back again. “I am moved in. This is just my style,” he explains.

“Yeah, this is his, uh, style,” Dean adds dryly after that.

“Well, I’m sorry I haven’t hung up the, uh, ‘Hang in there, kitty” poster yet, Dean. Feel free to redecorate.” Castiel can feel that Sam is annoyed, but he doesn’t understand why. Is he frustrated because he wants that poster? Does he want Dean to buy it for him? Maybe Castiel could go look for it? Next time he’s away, he’ll come back with that specific poster. That should cheer Sam back up. 

“So what, our home’s not good enough for the ‘hang in there, kitty’ poster?”

Okay, now Castiel is lost. Does Dean want that poster as well? He should really find out what is so special about that specific object they both seem to want.

Before he can ask them about it, he feels a familiar pull against his Grace. That could only mean that a new meeting will start soon. With reluctance he lets go of Dean’s hand again, getting up as well. Charlie throws him an awkward look, to which the Angel can relate whenever the two brother get into an argument.

“I’m needed in Heaven again,” Castiel says, only looking at Dean really. He needs to know whether or not Dean’s okay with him leaving so soon.

“Oh,” is all Dean gets out. He gets up as well, then, motioning for Castiel to follow him when he turns to the door. The Angel obliges, nodding shortly at Sam and Charlie in a way of saying goodbye. Charlie waves at him in return, Sam just nods, too.

“It was nice to meet you!” he can hear just before he passes through the door. The words warm his insides, and a new smile appears on his face again. In the hallway, Dean is already waiting for him. The moment Castiel is standing in front of him, he’s pulled in another hug.

“You do your best upstairs, okay?” Dean asks against his ear. “No matter what they say, you’re the best Angel there.”

“You know that’s not true,” Castiel talks back, pressing his face in Dean’s shoulder. “After all I’ve done, I could easily be called the worst of them all.”

A hand touches the back of Castiel’s neck, which is a very pleasant feeling. In Sam’s room, the other two are still talking in hushed voices, but Castiel ignores them now that he has Dean so close to him.

“To me you are the best,” Dean says in a whisper. It’s so weird to hear Dean talk so fondly about anybody else than Sam. It feels kind of good, makes Castiel love the hunter even more. 

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel responds as he pulls his face back, purposely keeping their lips right next to each other’s, hoping that he would finally feel Dean’s against his. It’s what he’s been waiting for ever since they got together, but so far the occasion has never occurred.

“No problem, man,” Dean answers, and at last, they kiss.

It’s like Castiel is at the verge of exploding; his inside burn so hard – in a good way, of course – and his Grace reaches out to Dean, willing to creep inside the Hunter’s body and snuggle close against his bright and beautiful soul.

Dean’s lips are so addictive that Castiel can’t find the will to pull back. As both their breathing fastens, Castiel feels Dean’s tongue push against his front teeth, and in some sort of reflex Castiel opens his mouth to allow Dean in.

“Uh,” someone suddenly coughs behind them, and quickly the pair pulls apart, making a quick turn to find Charlie standing there awkwardly. The hands that were still holding on now let go. Dean’s face is colored red in embarrassment.

“Eh, congratulations?” Charlie asks hesitantly. To Castiel’s biggest relief, Dean doesn’t deny anything that has happened here.

“Thanks,” he says instead. Then he turns his head back towards Castiel’s and presses one more quick kiss on his mouth. “You, come back home soon.”

Castiel can only nod before letting his wings back out again. He can still hear what they say next.

_“So you and Cas-?”_

_“Don’t.”_

After that, he doesn’t hear anything anymore. The moment he arrives back in the familiar surroundings of Heaven, he’s greeted by Inias again. The Angel looks at him in that same friendly way he’s always had in Castiel’s presence. That of course is really comforting to Castiel.

“Hello, Inias,” Castiel greets him, receiving a nod in return. Inias doesn’t speak as he nods his head sideways in a gesture to follow him. Without asking any questions, Castiel does. They pass the prison again on the way to their destination, and for a moment Castiel remains still, silently watching the place that holds Metatron behind bars.

“Has he said anything further?”

Inias only shakes his head.

“Nothing important; he’s been trying to anger up his neighbors, but so far they've been unresponsive to him.”

Castiel nods faintly. He’s not really assured that nothing could happen here; Metatron can still come up with some plan to escape, and that’s the last thing they want.

“Come on, Malachi’s really annoyed so we should hurry.”

And so they’re on their way again, moving to Naomi’s strict chamber that represents their main meeting-room for cases like these. The Angels that are present are the Angels who have chosen for it; literally everybody is welcome, so that’s probably why it has taken so long for them to come to even a single idea everybody could agree on.

Seeing that the majority of the Angels in the room represent more than half of Heaven’s population, it’s obvious that Castiel is not really a welcome presence to most of them. With embarrassment he recalls his days spent charged up with all the souls from Purgatory, remembering how he ended thousands of his brothers and sisters lives with just the snap of his two fingers.

Still, he keeps his head up high as he sits down between Inias and Azrael. The latter just ignores him and simply stares ahead with a stony face, but Castiel is perfectly fine with that; Azrael isn't exactly his favorite Angel, after all. If their species is considered emotionless, Azrael would be the prime example of it. She never smiles, jokes, and actually doesn't really speak unless she's spoken to, finding talking quite an annoying business. 

Castiel takes a deep but unnecessary breath when Naomi calls out for order, and immediately after that the whole room is quiet. It’s kind of a chaos, and there are so many Angels present, but luckily they can all hear each other perfectly fine no matter how far away they’re seated.

“Now, we’ve had some time to think about Castiel’s proposition, I think it's time we shall see what other opinions on the matter are.”

To Castiel’s biggest surprise, the majority of all the Angels raise their hands when they’re asked to if they agree. Most of them look at him bitterly though, so Castiel knows they aren’t really content _where_ the idea came from, no matter how good it might be.

“Seems like this answer is obvious enough,” Naomi then says. She turns her head to Castiel. “Then we shall discuss further steps we have to take to make this whole process happen perfectly.”

Castiel suspects that she wants him to supervise the whole thing, but that isn’t really what he signed on for. He’s at the verge of speaking up, but Ezekiel beats him to it.

“I’d like to run as candidate,” he says, and his name suddenly appears on a board behind Naomi, who turns around in surprise to see the sudden addition in the room. While Castiel has expected a storm of other Angels lining up to sign on as well, only a few actually do, making the board strangely emptier than anticipated.

“And you, Castiel? Are you making yourself a candidate as well?” Azrael suddenly asks next to him why a low and monotone voice. Castiel startles a little as he hears the Angel in the female vessel talk. He’d really thought she was all about ignoring him.

“No, being the leader hasn’t really been a good thing I’ve ever offered Heaven,” Castiel answers after a few moments of thinking. Azrael only blinks her eyes at that but doesn’t press further. Naomi starts to talk again, trying to lay down some basic rules for the whole thing with the other Angels, but Castiel’s mind travels somewhere else.

It’s Dean; he seems panicked for some reason, unintentionally calling for Castiel just by thinking of him. It unsettles the Angel extremely, causing him to fidget a little bit in his seat. Inias throws him a worried glance, which Castiel ignores as he tries to listen to Naomi again.

_Cas, please come home, Charlie’s down and I need your help!_

A sharp intake of breath causes the whole room to turn their attention to Castiel, who is already preparing his wings for flight.

“I really must go,” he offers as only explanation before taking off without awaiting any reactions from the others. He goes straight to the source of Dean’s prayer, ending up in Dean’s bedroom. Both Sam and Dean are standing on front of the bed, looking down at Charlie’s body lying on it. She’s unmoving, traces of the spell that killed her still visible. Without warning either hunters of his presence, Castiel moves forward, coming to stand next to Dean and reaching out two fingers to Charlie’s forehead. Next to him, Dean lets out a sigh in relief.

With a sigh, Castiel sees that her soul is already back in Heaven. With a touch of his fingers, he heals the damage the spell has brought to her, and then in just a matter of seconds he gets back to Heaven to find Charlie's soul, and grabbing it back down with him. She doesn't even have time to speak up, only barely arrived and then already on her way back down. In a very short time, Charlie suddenly jumps up in surprise.

“Merry Christmas!” she calls out, probably remembering the last thing she’s seen in Heaven before awakening again. Castiel lets Dean lean against him in relief, and Sam helps Charlie sit up again. The girl looks around in surprise. “Uh, hey I know you,” she breathes out incoherently, eyes vaguely staring at Castiel.

“I told you to stay in the dungeon,” Dean says. Charlie blinks a few times before she answers.

“Bet you say that to all the girls,” comes out silently, and Dean shoots her an annoyed glance. Then he finally turns back to Castiel and pulls him in a strong hug.

“Thank you,” he whispers in his ear. Castiel can only tighten the hug, unwilling to part from this man’s body again so soon. He wraps his wings around them, knowing very well that nobody in this room can see it.

“She’s wounded,” another woman suddenly says behind them, causing the pair to pull apart anyway. In front of them stands a woman Castiel hasn’t seen before.

“I go away for one meeting and you two get yourselves in trouble once more,” Castiel complains, almost afraid for having to return to Heaven after this is settled. They would most certainly not be happy with his sudden departure.

“Shut up,” Dean hisses at him. “Dorothy, this is Cas.” He points his hand in Castiel’s direction. The woman only studies him for a moment, but then watches Charlie instead.

“We should still have some time,” she says to everybody, and Castiel suspects they’re talking about he witch that killed Charlie. “She could still be in the air vents.”

“Actually, she is currently making her way to the main room,” Castiel says, taking off again before they can respond. When he lands, he’s standing right behind the witch. He can see she’s a powerful one, but he has the element of surprise, so he grabs her by the arm, snatches the key out of her hand, and presses his hand against her forehead to burn her soul out. It’s not a pleasant task, but if she’s a threat to his friends, he won’t allow her to continue her deeds.

When it’s done, he moves back to Dean’s bedroom, taking the body of the witch with him. A surprised shout comes from both ladies mouth. Dean only curses when the body is dropped on his bed. He hands the key back to Dean, who wraps his fingers around it tightly.

“Holy shit Cas, you have spared us a lot of work,” he says, unable to take his eyes off the dead woman on his bed. “Also, did you have to put her on the bed? I sleep in there, you know!”

“Just sleep?” Charlie asks in a teasing tone.

“Shut up,” Dean responds. Castiel has no idea what she’s been insinuating, but it’s not really of import. He has to return to Heaven immediately before the other Angels get even more upset with him. He leans in to Dean’s face again, stealing one quick kiss. Dean makes a sound of surprise when their lips meet. The others just look away.

“I must return, try to keep things down until I return, please,” he says in annoyance, and then he’s gone again.

 

* * *

 

 

 _Men of Letters Headquarters,_  
Lebanon, Kansas  
That evening

It’s quiet at the table. The kitchen is still a mess, Crowley is still weeping somewhere, and the hunters are exhausted for no reason since in the end they haven’t really done any hard work.

Also, now they have a computer currently still downloading the files of another computer, but they have nobody to help them translate any of those files, so what’s really the point?

Sam offers Dean a sympathetic look when the older hunter stares at the kitchen in defeat. It really sucks, though, because he’s spent almost a whole afternoon cleaning that room, only to have it trashed again by a witch with a tantrum.

It’s also a bad evening because Cas is still gone, and that bothers Dean. Sam seems to know that he has to avoid the subject, but not talking about it doesn’t make it less true. So in order to forget about Cas' absence, Dean pulls out another bottle of beer, and starts the next episode of Game of Thrones. Sam joins him, though he’s busier with Charlie’s laptop so he misses half of what is happening.

By the time Cas does return from Heaven, Dean has already fallen asleep on the couch. The Angel then reaches out for him and flies them to Dean’s bedroom. The sheets have been changed, Castiel notices. He drops Dean down on the mattress, and after pressing a kiss on the Hunter’s forehead, he sits down on a chair next to the bed, keeping watch on his beloved while he rests.


	4. Dean, stop licking my face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for crappiness of the chapter!

_Men of Letters, headquarters_   
_Lebanon, Kansas_   
_Three days later_

“Wow.”

It’s literally the only thing he can say as he enters the main room of the bunker, leaving the hallway to the bedrooms behind him. It’s around nine in the morning, but it feels like so many things have already happened.

“What?” Sam asks from where he’s sitting. Just seconds ago he was seated at the table, fingers pressed against his chin as he seems to be thinking, but now he’s turning around, suddenly pulled out of his train of thoughts. Dean comes to stand behind the chair next to Sam and rests his hands against it.

“Kevin,” Dean explains, nodding back to the hallway, “Just poured some buffalo milk down his gob twice.” And what a sight that has been. Last night Kevin just appeared at the bunker’s front door, drunk off his ass and barely able to stand. All that came out of his mouth were mangled words that kind of sounded like Enochian, but Dean couldn’t be too sure of that. At least he’s stopped muttering ‘falafe’ on a non-stop basis.

“Buffalo milk?” Sam asks. He turns to his brother and leans back in his chair. He looks concerned for Kevin’s well-being, and Dean has to admit that he too shares that unsettling feeling.

“Yeah, the hangover cure-all,” Dean clarifies, “it’s got everything in it.”

Sam shoots him an unbelieving expression.

“Except buffalo milk,” he then adds, looking up at the ceiling as he tries to remember the ingredients for the drink. By now he could make it in his sleep, so he hasn’t really been paying attention to how he made it earlier on.

Sam’s hand reaches to scratch his hair as he frowns, taking a deep breath before deciding what to say. “How’s that kid still recovering from Branson?” finally comes out. Dean only smirks because that answer is simple; Linda Tran already explained him the details of how he got in his current state.

“What can I say? He’s an amateur,” he jokes, because no matter what he’s been through, Kevin is still just a teenager with zero alcohol tolerance. “The slippery nipple shots at the Dolly Parton Dixie Stampede nearly killed the guy.”

Now Sam smiles as well, returning his gaze to the papers in front of him on the table.

“All right,” he says. “Well, uh, I got something that’s gonna get us back on the road.”

At that Dean finally sits down again, not really sure if he should be happy to hear that news or not. Sam puts his fingers atop of the keyboard of his laptop, getting ready to type something down.

“A case?” he asks.

“Yeah,” is all Sam answers.

“You sure you’re ready for that?” Dean asks. He presses his hands together, watching his brother worriedly. Sam seems to be taken aback by the question; his eyebrows raise and his mouth has fallen open.

“Why would I not be ready for that?” he asks. Dean can already feel the _talking_ part coming, but he just needs to be sure.

“You just close the Gates of Hell, Sammy. Right before that, Cas said you were damaged in ways he couldn’t heal. I just need to be sure you’re not going to drop in the middle of the hunt.”

Whooh, that’s a weight off his chest. Luckily, Sam seems to understand his hesitation on the situation.

“Dean, the minute Crowley was cured, it was like this bright light touched me and completely healed me,” the younger hunter explains. “I feel completely clean, as if every bit of Demon’s blood inside of me has been burned away. I’ve never felt better in my life.”

Dean eyes his brother curiously, not really sure what to think of it. “So you think the Big Man waved his mojo on you and put you back to factory settings?”

Sam only rolls his eyes, but eventually nods as well. Then he motions the screen of the laptop. Dean turns his back to his brother and puts his foot on the table, toying with some strange cables in front of him. 

“Okay, great that that’s finally settled,” he breathes out. ‘Taxidermist named Max Alexander mysteriously crushed to death. Nearly every joint in his body dislocated, very bone broken. Poor guy is a human pretzel. You tell me what’s got that kind of strength.”

“A demonic luchador?” Dean asks mockingly, knowing quite well that there’s no way a demon could have done this. Ah, how great is it to finally be able to say that there are no more demons to worry about! Sam rolls his eyes again. Is it Dean, or is his little brother losing patience? Oh, how great is it to be the annoying older sibling?

“Shop’s a couple hours away in Enid, Oklahoma. We should at least check it out!” Sam presses on. Dean doesn’t turn around, but instead reaches for his watch to check the hour. A quarter past nine; they still have the whole day.

But still, is it really a good idea to leave Crowley and Kevin alone in here? Sure, Mrs. Tran has arrived half an hour ago to check on her son, so she should at least be able to keep those two away from each other, but still, something is nagging inside of Dean.

“Unless there’s some reason you think we shouldn’t?” Sam challenges. Then Dean turns his eyes at Sam in irritation.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks angrily, knowing already that he’s talking about Cas.

“Come on, Dean, you’re acting like the scared army wife who fears her husband won’t find her if she isn’t at home,” Sam explains in metaphors. “Your boyfriend knows where to find you, he’s proven that enough times already. Now let’s go and save some people.”

Dean stands up when Sam does, and they both go to the hallway to get their stuff from their rooms. Before Sam can walk through the door, Dean turns to him.

“Don’t ever say ‘boyfriend’ again,” Dean hisses. “It makes me feel like some ridiculous teenager.”

Sam only chuckles.

“Whatever you say, Dean.”

 

* * *

 

 

_A few hours later, Enid Oklahoma_

Okay, so the getting his throat slashed open hasn’t really been what Sam looked forward to. The worst part is that he doesn’t even see it coming. One moment there’s a noise behind him, and when he turns, his gun is slapped out of his hand and he’s bleeding all over his clothes. Damn the camouflage-abilities this madman has taken by eating what would probably be a chameleon.

“Aah!” he calls out in pain, feeling how the blood pulses out. This is bad, _really_ bad. He could bleed to death unless the cut is taken care off.

“Chameleon’s aren’t that bad,” the man wearing a cook’s uniform calls out. On his chest, the name ‘Chef Leo’ is written. “Kind of taste like chicken.”

Sam turns around. His whole body is shaking from the pain, and he has trouble gasping for breath as the blood starts to come up his throat as well. With every last effort he has, he lets his mind scream out to Cas, hoping that the Angel could hear him.

_Cas, Avant-Garde Cuisine, Enid Oklahoma, help!_

The man is already lifting his hand to strike another blow, but suddenly all Sam can hear is a pained grunt and the sound of something smashing against a wall. Faintly, Sam looks up to find Castiel standing there in a very threatening stance. His eyes are glowing blue, and his arm is still in the air from having pushed the chef Leo.

“Cas,” Sam calls out before he loses his balance and drops down on the floor. He already coughs out blood. When he feels his hand being pulled away, he panics. He wants to struggle back, but then, all of the sudden, the pain is gone. His vision clears again, and he can see how Castiel has crouched down next to him.

“Are you alright, Sam?” Castiel asks. He pulls Sam’s arm to help him get up, and soon both men are standing again. Sam’s still a little out of breath, but at least the pain is gone. “Where’s Dean?”

“He’s still wandering around, looking for this guy,” Sam says, pointing at the unconscious chef Leo lying against the wall. Castiel inspects the man quickly with a frown.

“He has animalistic abilities,” Castiel states, and yeah, Sam could have told him that. They both look up when Dean enters the room with his gun in front of him. For a moment the hunter stops in his track, probably trying to figure out why Cas is there, but when he notices the blood on Sam’s clothes, he seems to make the connection.

Suddenly, Dean drops the gun, running up to Cas and throwing him on the floor. Dean crawls up on top of the Angel, already reaching for his face. Quickly, Sam turns his head around because this isn’t really something he wants to watch.

“Dean, why are you licking my face?” Castiel asks in his low and neutral voice, which causes Sam to laugh out loud, despite the urgency of the situation. If Dean would have a tail, it would have been waggling wildly.

“Dean, _stop licking my face_!” then comes, to which Sam laughs even louder. He doubles over, resting his hands on his knees as he tries his best not to land on the ground as well. He finally turns to look at his brother and the Angel, and no matter what he thought before, but this sight is _golden_!

Dean is hovering on top of the Angel, ignoring the hands that try to push him away as he runs his tongue over every part of Castiel’s face. The best part is, by the lack of having a tail, Dean instead is swinging around his butt.

This could be excellent blackmail material!

“Sam, why is Dean a dog?” Castiel asks after having given up the effort of stopping Dean. Sam decides to come and help him, and not-too-softly he pushes his older brother off the Angel, causing Dean to scramble up again so quickly and growl a little at Sam.

“What, are you going to bite me?” Sam asks with a smirk. Dean slumps his shoulders as he surrenders. He still comes to stand next to Cas to rub his head against the Angel’s arm. Castiel sighs and starts to scratch Dean behind his ears. A happy sound comes out of Dean’s mouth.

“It’s a spell we used, we needed some information of a dog, but as you can see, there are some side-effects,” Sam explains as he points at his brother. Then he turns to the man and inspects him.

“He’s sick,” Dean suddenly says without turning away from Cas. “Cancer, I can smell it on him.”

“Seriously?” Sam asks, but Castiel confirms it.

“Aw, I had my dog friends ready to take down this fella,” Dean suddenly whines. “They’re going to be so disappointed!”

 

* * *

 

 

_Lebanon Kansas, that evening_

The bunker is kind of crowded at the moment. For the first time since his arrival, Crowley has shown himself at the dinner table, eating from the dinner Dean has prepared in the kitchen. Linda and Sam are both discussing some books Dean’s never heard of, so he’s quickly stopped listening to the two. Kevin is treated by Castiel’s healing hands, and immediately the color in his cheeks return and he has stopped making dying noises with every movement he makes.

Dean looks proudly at this little family they have built for themselves – if they can be this relaxed every evening, he’s willing to include the depressed Crowley. Heck, it’s not like he’s a real threat at the moment, so what trouble would it be to, kind of, befriend the ex-demon?

The moment everybody returns to their bedroom – luckily the men of letters were numerous, because there are only so many couches to crash on.

It has never really been discussed, since Castiel hasn’t spent the night here so far, but after seeing a hesitation on the Angel’s face, Dean grabs his hand and pulls him along with him, ignoring the knowing looks he receives from Sam and Kevin. Linda, of course, is oblivious and just enters her bedroom with a high-pitched goodbye to everybody.

“C’mon, Cas,” Dean says, squeezing Castiel’s hand as he pulls him along to his bedroom. The Angel just lets himself be pulled along, making no effort at all to pull away from Dean’s grip. From the moment they’re inside, Dean closes the door behind them. Castiel moves to the bed immediately, already sitting down when Dean starts to change into his sleeping attire. He can see the way the Angel’s shoulders are slumping, seeming sad for some reason. He has his hands together, resting his chin upon them in some sort of thinking pose.

“Okay, spill, what’s wrong?” Dean asks after he’s taken his t-shirt off. He’s stopped changing to watch Castiel curiously. The Angel only sighs quietly, but doesn’t turn around.

“I’m not sure if I should return to Heaven for a while,” Castiel says in a long breath. He keeps out his hands to look at them. He starts to bite his lower lip, which is again a very human reaction Dean has never really seen him do.

Dean pulls himself away from the drawer, not yet wearing his worn black shirt with a faded _Led Zeppelin_ logo on it. He has the clothing in his hands, but makes no move of putting it on, instead walking closer to the conflicted Angel currently sitting on his bed. When he finally reaches him, he kneels down in front of him, resting one hand on Castiel’s knee in an attempt to win his attention. Slowly, Castiel looks up with saddened eyes, meeting Dean’s gaze and holding on.

“What happened?” Dean asks, not really caring what exactly is happening upstairs, but if it brings down his Angel, then it’s his business alright.

“They’re going to hold elections for who would represent Heaven from now on,” Castiel explains, and Dean listens. Castiel tells him how he proposed they would try it the human way, how then Angels could choose who to follow themselves. How Malachi and Bartholomew have been less than hospitable, how Azrael seems to be the most popular candidate, along with Ezekiel. And how Naomi has insisted Castiel would be in charge of the elections, in disagreement to the other Angels. Dean learns that the only Angel Castiel can really talk to is Inias, and that he sometimes goes to visit Metatron without really knowing why.

“I could have found a way to earn their trust again, Dean,” Castiel then finishes, lowering his gaze again to look at their intertwined fingers. “But I can’t do that and be with you at the same time, and we both know by now that I would always choose you.”

Dean remains silent. What do you say to that? What would _anybody_ say if they told them they left their family to be with the other? But then again, Heaven hasn’t been Castiel’s family for a while, now, and the Angel seems to know that now. They have each other, Sam, Kevin, Linda, Charlie (where-ever in Oz she might be), and heck, even Crowley at the moment, though they don’t have much with that ex-demon for now.

“The hardest thing is to let go, Cas,” Dean says, knowing that from experience. He’s let go so many things in his life that he could almost write a book about it. “And while you’re grieving, you should know you have a _new_ family down here in this dusty little bunker that will get you through all of the doubts you might have.”

Castiel smiles lightly, barely noticeable, and then Dean stands up again to wrap his arms around him. Without further changing their clothes, they both lie down on the bed. Dean still holds Castiel tightly, and the Angel lies with him, waiting for the human to fall asleep. Right before Dean dozes off, he glances down to look at the Angel.

“Join me?” he asks, and Castiel knows what he means. With a small nod, he helps pushing Dean over that edge of sleep, and after giving him a light kiss on the cheek he dives after him, joining the hunter in his dream.

And the next morning, nobody mentions the little toddler with dark hair and green eyes that joined them in the domestic fantasy from that night.

 

* * *

 

 

_A few days later, Lebanon Kansas  
Men of Letters headquarters. _

Though Castiel doesn’t really sleep, he does like the waking-up part of the morning. Right after leaving another one of Dean’s dreams, he spends another few minutes just watching the hunter in front of him with full adoration, knowing very well that Dean is currently in a warm, sunny place, getting ready to make a swim in a beautiful lake.

When Dean opens his eyes, his lips automatically form a smile. His hands make a slow movement to the Angel’s face, and then he does nothing else but caress his cheek for a moment.

“Mornin’,” Dean says with his typical morning voice. Castiel smiles back at the hunter and shuffles a little forward to meet Dean’s lips halfway.

“Good morning, Dean,” Castiel says. Then he snuggles closer to him again and rubs his face against Dean’s cheek, causing Dean to chuckle.

“Damn, you really are a cat,” Dean jokes. Castiel decides to play along, and starts to fake-purr. Dean laughs even louder now, holding the Angel even tighter and not willing to let him go.

“ _Dean?”_ suddenly comes from a little further away. The pair stop moving, and Dean looks up to check the hour.

“Damn, it’s almost noon,” Dean says, making his way to get out of bed. Castiel does the same, though while Dean needs to get dressed for the day, Castiel just blinks at his clothes one time to automatically clean them.

“Show off,” Dean mutters, slumping to his closet to get some clothing. Castiel receives one quick kiss before he turns to the door after hearing Sam call out for both him and Kevin as well.

The moment he reaches the main room he finds Sam sitting next to a book shelf, holding a pink book in his hands. Castiel can see that it’s one of those ‘Oz’ books Dorothy’s father has written. 

“Good morning, Sam,” Castiel greets. Right before Sam can answer him, a cellphone on the table next to Castiel starts buzzing. With a frown, the Angel turns to look at it. Sam does the same, looking a little annoyed at the device currently waiting for the call to be answered.

Neither of them makes a move to answer, mostly because Castiel recognizes that phone as Dean’s phone. Dean wouldn’t want him to mess with his stuff, right?

“Dude, it’s your boyfriend’s phone, you can answer it,” Sam says, not even bothering to move from his spot. Castiel nods quickly. In an awkward turn, he now faces the table. With one reach of his hand he holds the phone between his fingers.

“I don’t understand, how do I pick up?” Castiel asks with a frown.

“It’s a touch screen, Cas,” Sam says with a smirk on his face. “Just put your finger over the green icon and slide it to the right.”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Castiel complains, but he does what Sam tells him to. After a soft sound, the buzzing stops, but the screen starts counting. Slowly, Castiel lifts the phone up to his ear.

“Hello?” he asks, ignoring the snort coming from Sam’s way. Castiel tries to walk away, only to have the phone almost snatched from his hands since it’s still attached to the charger. Silently cursing, Castiel unplugs it to turn his back to Sam.

“ _Heya Dee-dawg,”_ an unfamiliar voice says on the other line. Castiel really is confused now. Who is this person? Why does he have Dean’s phone?

“Apologies, but I’m not familiar with any Dee-dawg-?” Castiel starts, but then the phone is pulled out of his hands by Dean.

“I got it, babe,” Dean tells him, now dressed up in is typical layers. Then he holds the device to his ear and continues the conversation. “Sonny hey.”

Castiel turns to look at Sam again, who has now dropped the book in an attempt to follow the conversation.

“So what’s up?”

It’s frustrating not to be a part of the conversation, but Castiel knows how keen Dean is about his privacy, so listening in to the other side of the line would be really inappropriate of him. Sam comes to stand next to him, crossing his arms.

“Okay,” Dean says, and then there’s a pause. “Al right, yeah, just sit tight. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Then it’s quiet again.

“Shut up,” he suddenly says, cheeks coloring red as he glances one look at Cas. After that he hangs up, and Sam starts leaning against the table, smirking.

“So, what was that all about, ‘Dee-dawg’?” Sam asks, clearly amused by this new discovery. Castiel just keeps his eyes on the phone, viewing it with interest. Dean gives him a soft poke in the ribs – which Castiel really doesn’t appreciate, and then he starts explaining.

“Remember when we were kids that spring in upstate New York? Dad was on a rugaru hunt,” Dean tells Sam. Castiel understands that this is something he wouldn’t know about, so he keeps in the background. “We uh, we crashed at the, uh…” Dean seems to think for a moment before he continues, “…the bungalow colony with the ping-pong table?”

“Yeah, you disappeared,” Sam says as he recalls as well. “Dad came back, you were gone. He shipped me off to Bobby’s for a couple months and went and… found you. You were lost on a hunt or something?”

At that, Dean frowns, for a moment before lifting his head with his mouth open.

“Ah, so _that’s_ what we told you,” Dean says, seeming to remember the excuse they offered him when he was just a kid. “Right…” Dean walks away, leaving Sam and Castiel sitting at the table alone. Sam looks a little surprised for a moment, but only starts speaking after shooting Cas a questioning glance.

“I’m sorry, that’s what you _told_ me?” Sam asks with clear frustration written all over his voice. Castiel doesn’t really like it when the brothers are angry at each other so he hopes it doesn’t escalate to that. He remains quiet, though, because he doesn’t really have anything to add to this.

“Truth is, uh…” Dean says as he turns back to Sam. His right hand reaches for his front pocket to fumble nervously with the fabric. “I lost the food money that dad left for us in a card game.”

Sam doesn’t respond, so Dean continues.

“I knew you’d get hungry, so I tried taking the five-finger discount at the local market and got busted,” he clarifies. When he keeps on moving nervously, Castiel comes to stand next to him to calm him down, putting a hand on Dean’s arm. “I wasn’t on a hunt; they sent me to a boy’s home.”

Sam lets out a huff of breath, clearly surprised at what he’s hearing.

“A boy’s home? Like a… reform school?”

“Yeah, more or less,” Dean says, tilting his head a little to the right. “It was a farm and the guy who ran it – Sonny – he, uh… you know, he looked after me.”

“Wait, does this Sonny know what you do?” Castiel asks before Sam can even open his mouth, but by the looks of it, the hunter had the exact same question ready.

“Yeah,” Dean says, as if that’s the most normal case. At Castiel’s confused look, he continues. “He’s good people. I gave him the number to the Bat phone, and sounds like he’s got something in our wheelhouse.”

Castiel then plucks the phone out of Dean’s hand, eyeing it thoroughly.

“What is so different about this phone that it is considered a ‘ _Bat’_ phone?” Castiel asks. “It has nothing on it that could indicate the animal?”

Both Dean and Sam roll their eyes, but Castiel does receive a playful shove against his shoulder, and the phone is once again taken out of his hands, this time put back on the table, plugged right back into the recharger.

“It’s from Batman,” Dean says as he passes his hand through Castiel’s hair, messing it all around so it looks like he’s just gotten out of bed. Castiel doesn’t really like it, but if it amuses Dean, he won’t say anything about it. “Remind me that we need to make you watch those movies.”

Oh, more movies to watch. It isn’t like his list isn’t already endlessly long. Sam is already turning around, on his way to pull the pink book back out of the shelf, obviously intending to read it further as they drive to their destination for the hunt.

“So, are you ready to go out on a hunt?” Dean asks with a broad smile, leaning a little closer to Castiel so their chests almost touch. The Angel returns the smile, and his hand reaches up to Dean’s face, caressing his cheek with his thumb.

“Oh, c’mon guys, don’t act all lovey-dovey around me, it’s getting really depressing,” Sam complains, keeping his eyes away from them. Without waiting their reaction, Sam already makes his way to the hallway to leave the room. Before he gets to the door, though, he turns around again.

“Hey Dean…” he starts, sounding a little unsure. “Why didn’t you just tell me you went to a boy’s home?” He has his arms spread in an attempt to make it perfectly clear how that would just have been a more logical explanation. Dean pulls back away from Cas again, to the Angel’s disappointment.

“I don’t know, it was dad’s idea,” Dean answers, frowning again as he digs back into his memories. “And then it just, you know, the story became the story. I was sixteen, Sam, just give me a break.”

With his hands in the air, Sam shows surrender, moving back away again to leave the room.

 

* * *

 

 

“Dee-dawg!”

Dean is pulled out of a faraway memory when the familiar voice of Sonny speaks out his name. The man looks different from when he last saw him; his hair is pulled back in a ponytail and he’s wearing glasses now. His moustache, though, that is one that will never change.

“Sonny! Good to see you!” Dean says before receiving a strong hug from the older man. Behind him, both Sam and Castiel stay in the back, clearly not really knowing what to say.

“Hey, you, too, brother!” Sonny answers, slapping Dean one time on the back before turning his eyes towards the other two men. “Now which one of you is Sam?”

Sam walks forward, holding out his hand for Sonny to shake, which he does.

“Good to meet you,” he says with a smile on his face. Sonny seems to be impressed by Sam’s height, but, hey, who wouldn’t?

“Back at you, brother,” he says, then turning towards Castiel who just stands there uncomfortably. “So you must be _babe_?”

Castiel gives him a confused look, turning towards Dean who is currently slapping his forehead. Typical of Sonny to bring that back up.

“No, my name is Castiel?” the Angel says hesitantly, accepting the handshake he receives. Sonny just laughs out loud before pulling back again.

“Man, that one’s a keeper, Dean,” he says. Thankfully, the man doesn’t seem to judge them in any way, but Dean wouldn’t really have expected it from him.

“So, farm looks, eh, nice,” Dean says in an attempt to change the conversation.

“Oh, please man,” Sonny returns, smirking despite the sudden sad look in his eyes. “It’s barely standing. Only got a handful of kids working around here now.”

“Why’s that?” Dean asks, not really noticing how Castiel and Sam both seem distracted by the maid looking at them as they speak.

“Because these days the system would rather incarcerate a boy than redeem him,” Sonny explains. Then, suddenly, Sam speaks.

“Hey, Sonny, uh, you mind if we talk alone?” he asks, nodding towards the maid currently cleaning the table. Sonny agrees, sending the woman – Ruth – away. After that, they get to business. Sonny explains what exactly happened with Jack, the tractor. Sonny doesn’t really seem sure what to believe, but when he mentions the flickering lights, the scratching noises… it’s clear that there is indeed something going on here.

“All right, you think you can round up the boys while we take a look around?” Dean asks.

“Well, that shouldn’t be a problem; most are home on break – well, except those with no home worth going to,” Sonny says. Dean then thinks of all those young kids, homeless and probably orphan, getting on the wrong track. One time long ago he had been one of them. When Sonny walks away, Dean turns to Sam.

“Well, why don’t you take the house? I’ll check the barn.” Castiel looks up, surprised that Dean is going out alone. Sam nods shortly, letting out a small _yeah_ when Dean is already on his way to get outside.

“You know it’s easier if I just check the whole place,” Castiel complains. Dean only grunts.

“No, you need to learn how to be a hunter,” Dean counters. “We’ll do it this way.” Then he’s out the door.

 

* * *

 

 

Seeing Robin again has been something on Dean’s mind from the moment he got here. She still looks the way he remembers her, only a lot more grown up. Her hair seems a little lighter, and she has a few freckles on her face.

Dean doesn’t mean anything romantic with it; his feelings for Robin have since long passed. But still, after all those years, he finds he really wants to know what has become of her. Dean wants to know the things that happened to her since after he left.

“Hi, welcome to Cus’s. What can I get you three?” Robin asks when she reaches their table. That sentence is spoken in such a fake enthusiasm, like she’s said it a little bit too much by now.

“Bet you never thought you’d see me here, huh?” Dean asks with a giant smile on his face. Castiel tenses a little bit next to him, but Dean barely notices. All he can see is Robin’s blank expression, without any recognition. Sam eyes the two warily.

“Uh, look, I’m a little bit slammed right now. Do you guys want to hear the specials?” Robin says quickly, sounding slightly frustrated. Ah, well, Dean’s frustrated too. How could she not recognize him?

“Robin… Dean Winchester?” Dean says as he gestures himself. Robin’s eyebrows rise and her eyes widen a little bit, but other than a short _uhm_ nothing really comes out of her. She still doesn’t seem to make the connection. “I used to live up at Sonny’s.”

Castiel looks down, but Sam stares at his brother, shooting him a strange expression;

“Oh, oh,” Robin says, nodding slightly. “Uh, look, sorry. There’s just – there’s so many boys that pass through there, it’s – it’s hard to remember every – every name and face.” She trips over her words a few times as she tries to explain herself, but somehow, Dean doesn’t really buy it. Still, he decides not to push it. He’d rather not cause a scene in front of Castiel.

“Yeah, uh, no. Sorry,” Dean mutters, looking away from her and to the menu instead. “I just, I remember you coming up there with your mom. She’d give guitar lessons. It’s, uh – it was a long time ago.”

“Yeah, mom… she loved helping out the boys,” Robin says, looking at Sam for a moment. “I guess that’s why I kept giving lessons after she passed.”

Nobody really responds to that. Robin clears her throat, Sam and Dean look at their menus, and Castiel just stares at Robin with a big frown on his face. Dean reaches out to touch his leg underneath the table in a gesture to calm down. In a silent plea he begs Castiel not to say anything.

When suddenly somebody calls out Robin’s name, she excuses herself and walks away towards the source of the voice. After she’s gone, it’s like everybody breathes out at the same time. Dean still has his head down, but now Sam is looking at him again with a smirk. Oh, he’s enjoying him.

“Dude,” he says. Bitter, Dean throws the menu back on the table and pushes his chair back.

“Let’s go,” Dean says as he stands up. He picks up his jacket and is almost halfway through the room before Sam and Castiel are up as well. Quickly, they follow him. It’s only when they’re outside that Sam starts talking again.

“What was that?” Sam asks, obviously enjoying himself way too much here.

“Nothing,” Dean bites out. When his phone starts ringing he looks down.

“Nothing?” Castiel suddenly says, sounding bitter and hurt. Dean turns to him the moment he hears his voice. “Obviously it was _something_.”

“I said it was nothing, all right? Just believe me and drop it.”

Then he picks up his phone, only to hear Sonny on the other line, telling him that Ruth just died.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s when Robin suddenly sits in the living room of Sonny’s place that Castiel seems to have enough of doing this hunt the old-fashioned way. He wants to get out of there as fast as he can; wants to keep Dean away from her. He doesn’t understand why, though. He’s never felt so possessive over somebody ever before, and it kind of creeps him out.

So when suddenly the kid Timmy shows up, Castiel understands it completely. He can see his mother’s spirit hovering around him. Her soul seems so conflicted, so pained and troubled, and obviously her judgment is clouded.

And then Timmy tells them he can’t control her, and that’s when Castiel jumps into action. He flies towards her, grabs her by her arm and stops her from starting anything that could harm the others.

“Don’t do this,” he urges her on, very much aware that the others can’t see her and that he might as well just be talking to himself. Dean and Sam don’t seem so confused, but that Robin-lady sure as hell does, and that satisfies Cas a little bit. When the ghost stares Sam down, Castiel turns to the two hunters. “Timmy needs to tell her to let him go if she wants to leave here peacefully,” he explains.

Timmy, who has been listening, shakes his head. “But she’s my mom,” the boy says with tears in his eyes. By then, the ghost has found a grip on Sam with her abilities, and she throws him against a wall. Robin shrieks in surprise and fear. Amateur, Castiel thinks. A little further away, Sam gasps in pain.

“Listen to me,” Dean says. He kneels in front of the kid and puts one hand on his shoulder. “Sometimes you got to do what’s best for you, even if it’s gonna hurt the ones you love.”

So the kid tries. “Mommy… stop it.” It’s barely a whisper, the words don’t even reach his mother’s ears.

“Hurry up, Dean,” Castiel grits out. He’s still trying his best to hold the ghost back, but she’s really strong.

“Timmy, Kung Fu grip!” Dean suddenly shouts. Then, a new expression comes on the kid’s face, and he finally raises his voice.

“Mommy, stop it! Stop hurting people!”

And then, whatever force that has been pushing Sam down seems to let go. The hunter gasps for breath loudly, making a loud sound of relief. Castiel loses his grip on the ghost because there’s no more reason to hold her back. She’s aware of her surroundings; at least that is clear when she looks down on her child with her arms holding out to him.

“You have to go. Never come back. I’ll be okay, I promise,” the kid says, and then the scorched image of his mother’s ghost peels off its burned skin, and she finally looks healthy again. The woman looks at him with tears in her eyes. “I love you, too.”

Then Castiel puts his hand on her shoulder as she agrees that it’s time to leave. So, Castiel brings her to where she belongs, even though returning to Heaven has been the last thing he’s wanted.

 

* * *

 

 

_Lebanon, Kansas  
Men of Letters headquarters, that night_

Castiel doesn’t come home until long after midnight. Dean isn’t happy with that.

When he appears in Dean’s bedroom, he just stands there until Dean looks over.

“ _Holy crap_ , stop doing that!” Dean curses as he startles from the sudden presence in the room. He rubs his eyes and sits up a little bit. “What was your problem today?”

Castiel doesn’t speak, but walks towards the bed, this time removing his shoes before coming to lie down next to Dean. He crawls in Dean’s arms, trying to get close. His face rests in the hunter’s neck. Dean just wraps his arms around him, pressing a soft kiss at the back of Castiel’s head.

“I’m so sorry, Dean,” Castiel mutters.

“Sorry about what?” Dean asks, understanding that the Angel is not just talking about his behavior today.

“I’m sorry that this vessel is a male one,” Castiel confesses. “I know how much you like women, and here you are, stuck with me…”

Dean frowns. What is Castiel talking about? Is this about Robin? He’s been acting all jealous since they saw her in that restaurant. But Dean doesn’t understand why; he has made no indication that he misses being with her in any way, right?

“Cas, don’t talk like that,” Dean whispers in his ear while stroking his hair. “You are amazing and I wouldn’t trade you for anything in this whole world. I like you just the way you are.”

Castiel just nods. Dean can see how conflicted the Angel looks, though. It’s completely normal; since forever, he’s been living with no emotion at all. Ever since he’s met Dean, he’s been faced with tons of emotions suddenly, and it’s only understandable that he’d be a little freaked out.

“If it’s about Robin, I was just interested in how her life has been so far. I’m not the awkward kind of ex who refuses to be friends, babe,” Dean adds before pressing another kiss on Castiel’s hair. The Angel nods lightly, but otherwise doesn’t move. “I want  _you_ , not her."

“Then prove it,” Castiel whispers against his lips, and, oh, Dean is down with that. Without giving any kind of spoken response, Dean pulls at Castiel’s trench coat, peeling it off of the Angel’s shoulder. A gasp escapes from his lips, when the coat is thrown on the floor. Dean takes his time taking off the black jacket of the tuxedo. Castiel doesn’t stop him. Their lips barely leave each other as Dean rips open Castiel’s shirt. He doesn’t have the patience to open it button by button. He can borrow the Angel one of his t-shirts tomorrow; it’s about time he changes his wardrobe…

Dean feels how his body warms up by every layer of clothing that is removed from the Angel. With all the gentleness he has, his fingers travel all over Castiel’s skin. He wants to touch him everywhere, wants to show the Angel that he loves _every_ part of him, no matter what he believes.

Castiel has trouble keeping still as Dean touches him. He lies down on his back, hands pinned down behind his head by Dean’s left hand as his right one travels all over Castiel’s body. His lips follow everywhere, light kisses forming in every place Dean can find. He doesn’t know if he’s imagining it, but somehow it seems like Castiel’s skin is glowing. He can’t really describe what he’s seeing; it’s like Cas is becoming his own light source, and it’s amazing.

“Dean,” Castiel whispers, and when Dean looks up at him again, he can see how Castiel appears defeated. His lips seem to beg for another kiss, so Dean complies. His right hand goes lower then, intending to bring them both the pleasure they so obviously need.

 

 

“How come you light up like that?” Dean asks, and he sounds out of breath. Castiel throws his head back as he tries to find the words to answer.

“My Grace, is responding to what we’re doing,” Castiel explains. “I like this very much.”

“I like this too,” Dean whispers in his ear. After that, Castiel is quiet the whole remaining time, only gasping one or two times when Dean speeds up the movement of his hand. They press their foreheads together as they both get closer to that highest peak, lips slowly moving together.

“Dean,” Castiel mutters again, right before stumbling over the edge and letting out a long breath. He has his eyes closed from that overwhelming feeling all over his body, and just seeing him like that makes Dean join him, reaching the top and releasing all he has. A giant wave of pleasure passes all over him.

Castiel still glows blue when Dean comes to lie down next to him, and when he smiles, that bright light only seems to get stronger. Dean doesn’t see how he could ever let this amazing creature go. He hopes he never has to.

Castiel cleans them both with a simple hand wave, and the remaining night they spend more time together in Dean’s dream. In his sleep, Dean’s fingers find Castiel’s, and they don’t let go of each other until morning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not really happy with this chapter, mostly because I can't write smut for shit. Apologies for that, I just need to practice it a little more.  
> And yay, two episodes in one chapter. The next one will have Dean, Sam and Cas earning their V-card back! Hurray! What could possibly go wrong?


	5. I always imagined your wings black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jody Mills calls up the boys about a case, which leads to Sam, Cas and Dean to join a chastity club.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: badly written smut and a kind-of nsfw-ish drawing  
> other than that, nothing much
> 
> I want to thank the supernatural wiki-page with all the transcripts. Otherwise I would have to check every scene a hundred times before understanding what exactly they were saying

 

_Lebanon, Kansas  
Men of Letters, Headquarters_

Waking up next to Cas has always been his favorite part of the day. It gives him a feeling Dean hasn’t really felt a lot in his life before aside from when he was with Lisa – and that’s a time he no longer wants to remember at all.

Castiel does nothing else but looking at him – it’s what he does every night; watching over Dean, joining him in his dreams. And not to lie, those shared dreams are amazing. They vary, of course, going from an average afternoon away from the hunt to them living in a completely different universe where they don’t have monsters and apocalypses to fear. This night, the dream involved secret agents, but that’s probably because they all watched one of those James Bond-movies before going to bed.

When their eyes connect with each other for what feels like a full minute, Dean lifts up his hand to touch Castiel’s cheek softly.

“G’morning, babe,” Dean whispers, not really knowing when he got so sappy. Castiel smiles back at him and leans into the touch. Dean remembers how that skin had been glowing last night; something Cas always does whenever they have sex. It’s kind of awesome, but so far, Dean has never really mentioned it before.

“Good morning, Dean,” Castiel says back in a normal volume. His voice sounds loud in the silent room; kind of like he’s been screaming instead of talking. But Dean doesn’t mind, though. Instead, he shuffles a little closer to Cas and presses their noses together.

“How come you glow?” Dean finally asks as his curiosity gets the better of him. He now notices how his heartrate is suddenly speeding up. He distracts himself by kissing Castiel right next to his mouth.

“That’s me,” Castiel explains. “My Grace gets overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure and it reaches out to you.” The Angel leaves a small kiss on Dean’s cheek before continuing. “I didn’t know it could happen, but I feel it gets stronger every time, and I really like it.”

Dean nods with a smirk. “I really like it too,” he says. “It’s like it multiplies everything I’m feeling or something.”

“I believe that feeling will be greater when I finally connect with your soul.”

“Can’t wait for when that happens,” Dean finishes with a grin. Then he pushes himself up to get ready for the day. Though he loves staying in bed with the Angel, his stomach keeps on protesting on its emptiness. And to add to that, he really needs to relieve his bladder. He leaves a small kiss on Castiel’s lips and gets out of the bed.

“I’ll see you in the kitchen,” Dean says without waiting for an answer. He gets to the hallway, towards the bathroom.

When he joins Castiel in the kitchen a few minutes later, he finds a sleeping Sam on the table, head resting against an empty cup of coffee and on his other side there’s a practically full bowl of cornflakes. The guy must’ve fallen asleep while eating. Dean throws one look at the Angel who is sitting awkwardly next to him, only to receive a shrug in return.

“I didn’t want to wake him,” Castiel whispers very loud that it has no quiet effect at all. Dean rolls his eyes at him, instead filling his cup with the coffee Sam must have made. Then he takes a bowl from the shelf as well, turning to the table again while eyeing his brother. Just to be annoying, he throws it on the table, causing Sam to startle awake.

The younger hunter sits up with his hands thrown in the air. His eyes find Dean immediately, and Dean smirks up at him as he finally sits down next to the both of them.

“Hey,” Dean says.

“Hey,” Sam answers. He presses his hands against his face. His hair lies weirdly on his head, but it’s only normal, seeing as it is so freakishly long.

“You okay?” Dean asks, feigning innocence. 

“Yeah, eh,” Sam says. “Yeah, just, uh, resting my head for a second.”

“Did you not sleep well, Sam?” Castiel asks. Dean listens with interest while he serves himself some of the cereals Sam put on the table.

“You’re kidding, right?” Sam asks. He yawns loudly and stretches his arms. “I don’t think _anybody_ slept well with you two practically holding a marathon in that bedroom of yours.” That last part is directed at Dean with a bitchface thrown to it. Dean ignores it, and instead adds milk into his bowl.

“What can I say, Sammy?” he asks, poking in his cereals. Castiel doesn’t add anything to it, so Dean continues. “I just love the little sounds Castiel makes when he’s really into it.”

“Ah, shut up!” Sam says while he throws his hands against his ears. To be honest, Castiel doesn’t make any noise at all during sex; that’s probably what makes it so hot to begin with. This night it has all been Dean, unable to hold back as Castiel worshipped his body with his lips.

“And afterwards we just talk a little, and then we go at it again, and again…” Dean continues, enjoying the fact that Sam is very much _not_ enjoying this conversation. Is it him, or is Castiel blushing? Do Angels even blush? “Angel stamina is the best, and adding his awesome mojo to both our refractory periods, we could have gone all night!”

“Dean, I don’t really think Sam needs to know all this,” Castiel adds hesitantly, giving the Hunter a hopeless look. Dean smiles at him and winks.

“Don’t worry, babe, just teasing him,” Dean says. Underneath the table, he squeezes the Angel’s hand quickly before starting to eat. “It’s what big brother’s do, making the younger sibling feel uncomfortable.”

Then, the door opens. Dean doesn’t turn around, so he’s not really sure who’s entering the room. He lifts his spoon to his lips, but before he can finally take his first taste of breakfast, he’s slapped on his arm and the spoon falls on the table.

“You are a horrible man,” Linda Tran says angrily. She comes to sit between Cas and Sam with her own cup of coffee. Kevin follows, looking just as tired as Linda and Sam. He barely sits down before pressing his head against the table again.

“Aw come on, we weren’t _that_ loud,” Dean protests, because he can tease his brother, but this is some next level of accusation.

“Dude, you were singing _Sex Bomb_ – quite badly, might I add. If I weren’t afraid for any trauma I might catch, I would have entered that room and stuff a pair of socks in your mouth to shut you up,” Kevin groans as he rubs his eyes and yawns again.

Okay, so maybe he’s had a little bit too much to drink last night, and Sam isn’t exaggerating. This is starting to get really awkward.

It gets even worse when Crowley walks in and pours himself a cup of coffee as well, throwing Dean a dirty look.

“Oh Hell, I feel like I’ve been thrown into a cheap soap opera or something,” Dean mutters. Under the table, Cas puts a hand on Dean’s leg to comfort him, which Dean is thankful for. Before anybody can complain to him again, though, the cellphone in his pocket starts ringing. Nobody really looks up since they’re all very tired, but Dean reaches for the device immediately, seeing _unknown_ written on the screen before he picks it up. Sam catches the look he throws him.

“Hello?”

“ _Hey, Dean. Jody Mills,”_ the woman says, and Dean feels a light smile creep up on his face.

“Sheriff Mills,” Dean says, to which both Sam and Crowley look up. He pulls the phone away from his ear to reach for the speaker function. “Hang on, the others are here, too.”

“Hey Jody,” Sam says when Dean drops the device on the table. He shoots Crowley a warning glare, and the Demon breathes out in annoyance, taking a sip from his coffee and turning his head away.

“ _Hey Sam. Uh… I got a bit of an oddball to pitch your direction,_ ” comes from the phone.

“Shoot,” Dean says.

“ _A small town I cover outside of Sioux Falls – Only crime to speak of being the occasional cow tipping. Then last week… four people go missing.”_

Literally at the same time, everybody – except for maybe Crowley, who just sulks there by himself – sits up, waiting for the details.

“All right, so, what makes you think this is our kind of weird?” Dean says as he picks his cup back up.

“ _I’ve got a witness who says he saw someone lift an S.U.V. to nab a girl last night.”_

One look at Sam, one at Cas, and then the three of them get up.

 

* * *

 

 

_Hartford, South Dakota  
A few hours later_

Sheriff Mills is already waiting them when Dean parks the car. She’s been leaning against her truck, but upon seeing them arrive, she pushed herself off the car to meet them halfway. Dean enjoys her admiring face when she looks at his beloved Impala. His baby _is_ quite impressive, and he knows it!

She does seem a little surprised when the door to the backseat opens as well. Castiel walks out of the car, having left his trench coat in the car at Dean’s suggestion. He looks kind of naked without it, but Dean won’t complain at how good the Angel looks in just a suit.

“Sheriff,” Dean greets the woman, accepting the greeting hug she gives him. “Laying off the blind dates, I hope?”

“Yeah, you bite your tongue, boy,” she says, making Dean smile. He throws Cas a look while Jody greets Sam, winking when Castiel looks a little uncomfortable.

“Now, now, is there a new member in the gang?” she asks when she notices Castiel at last. The Angel holds out her hand for her to shake, which she does. She seems to inspect Castiel thoroughly, wary of strangers.

“Yeah, this is Cas,” Dean offers as explanation, not really wanting to explain the whole Angel business just yet. He finds Castiel’s troubled expression over meeting someone new quite hilarious, but Sam seems to decide that he shouldn’t suffer for long.

“So?” he asks. Jody lets Castiel’s hand go. She lifts the reports up and points them to an empty parking lot where a man in a grey overall seems to be sweeping glass away.

“So. Car was right over there, ass over teakettle,” she starts, offering the copies of the reports to Dean, Sam, and Castiel. Dean puts the folder down on his car as he reads. “Now, normally, if somebody would tell me that one guy lifted an S.U.V., I’d tell him to take a flying leap, but after what I’ve seen…”

“Nothing’s impossible,” Sam finishes, to which Jody hums in agreement.

“And this matches up with the other missing how?” Dean asks before really reading the other reports. Next to him, Castiel is already deep in it, just finishing the last page of the last case.

“There have been four abductions, and if I read it correctly, there has been strong evidence at every scene,” Castiel says. Jody throws him a surprised look, which Dean can understand for one not knowing that it’s actually a supernatural creature standing there. One that can read one book by the time Dean has finished one sentence.

“Uh, yeah, literally,” Jody adds, shaking herself out of her daze.

“So, first vic was a pastor?” Sam asks, oblivious of what just happened there.

“Yeah,” Jody says. “Door of his study was punched in. And then, the next two – an engaged couple.”

“Locked bedroom window was ripped open,” Dean finishes for her. He throws Sam a knowing look, which Sam returns. Castiel continues to study the reports a little more deeply.

“Uh-huh,” Jody agrees. “And then we have our waitress here with the topsy-turvy ride.”

“Any connection among them?” Sam asks

“Yeah,” Jody says slowly. She crosses her arms but refuses to look at any of them, instead throwing her eyes upwards. “They were all members of Good Faith church here. My, uh, my church group back in Sioux Falls was in a tizzy over it.”

Dean feels the surprised expression growing over his face, and he doesn’t notice the ‘ _huh’_ that comes out of him. Jody turns to him, arms still crossed.

“What?” she asks defensively. Dean quickly shakes his head dismissively.

“Didn’t peg you for churchy,” he says. A small smile forms on her face, so Dean knows – to his relief – that he hasn’t offended her.

“Yeah, you know,” she says. “Choking on the ladies’ room floor ‘cause of witchcraft kind of makes a higher power seem relevant.”

“Choking?” Castiel asks suddenly, sounding terribly concerned for Jodie’s wellbeing. It’s endearing.

“Crowley, I’ll explain later,” Dean mutters to him. His hand travels to his arm to calm him down, which Castiel does. “Jody, are you sure you’re, uh, ready to jump back in the fray?” Jody’s face looks a little sad when the question is formed; as if she’s trying to appear strong, while on the inside she’s at the verge of crying. Dean can understand that, since she’s had to see her son die twice, losing her husband in the process as well.

“This wackadoo stuff keeps coming,” she explains. Her eyes travel to nowhere, making her look ahead of her without really focusing on something. “More I know, better armed I’ll be.”

They then share a few seconds of eye-contact, but neither of them continue on the conversation. Castiel makes a slight movement next to Dean, causing the hunter to turn to him. He offers Castiel a small smile, silently wishing that they were back in that bed again, without having to worry about anything else.

“Okay, so we have, uh,” Sam starts, “missing church folk and super strength.” Then he looks up at Castiel. “Angels punishing them?”

“Wha- uh, Angels?” Jody interrupts. Her face looks shocked, which is understandable. “You’re joking.”

“Huh, nah,” Dean says, resting a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “Cas is okay, but the rest of them pretty much suck.” He ignores the annoyed look Castiel throws him and smiles up at Jody. Before she can comment on it, Sam continues talking. Jody doesn’t remove her eyes from Castiel, as if she can’t really believe that he’s there.

“You said there was a witness?”

“Yeah, well… more or less.”

 

* * *

 

 

Talking to the witness has made it clear that there are no connections with Angels, but Dean is sure Castiel could have told them that as well. He’s happy that they’re able to do the hunt the old-fashioned way. Things could be so much easier, but that’s not the way Dean likes to do this.

Anyway, they state that there’s not much else to do than visit the church themselves. It’s not a hard one to find. Good Faith Church is a large, extremely white building that could blind someone when it’s extremely sunny. Upon arriving, Castiel has admired it at once, touching practically every stone, blessing the water at the front of the church, and inspecting every painting that is hanging there, pointing it it’s accuracy. Dean can only roll his eyes at him, but he has to admit that it’s kind of cute seeing the Angel like this.

And after that, he mentally slaps himself for thinking his Angel is cute.

A lady comes to greet them after a while. She has red hair and a small black hairband. She looks friendly enough, but Dean has trouble speaking out her name; Bonny Futchko. Afraid of pronouncing it wrong, he lets Sam do most of the talking. Castiel wisely remains quiet, remembering the last time he went to interview somebody. That was a good hunt, Dean remembers, thinking back of how hard Castiel had been trying. He’s improved a lot by now, though.

They finish the tour after half an hour, and then they find themselves seated in front of the woman’s desk. Ms. Futchko walks away from the bookcase she’s been standing next to, coming to join the other three behind her desk. She has this wide smile on her face that makes Dean a little uncomfortable.

“We hope you enjoyed the tour,” she says before sitting down. “Any questions before we get you boys registered?”

“Uh, yeah,” Sam says, throwing a quick look at Dean. “Uh, look, um, Ms. Futchko-,” Sam starts. Dean doesn’t really know why he seems so uncomfortable. He quickly turns to Cas, who seems to be in the exact same position, only his expression seems to be ten times worse. No, Castiel seems troubled about something.

“Oh, please,” Ms. Futchko interrupts Sam. “Bonnie will do just fine.”

She looks so earnest, so honest. Her face loses the wide smile a little, only to have her lips curled upwards slightly in a more believable expression. She’s friendly enough.

“Bonnie, okay,” Sam says, hesitancy still thick on his voice. “Uh, we… love the church, we do. But… well, we’ve heard that a few members have gone missing, and, to be honest… that kind of scares us.”

Oh, so Sam was going for the scared type? Dean could roll with that. Out of Bonnie’s eyesight, he takes Castiel’s hand in his to calm him down, but it doesn’t seem to work. The Angel keeps on turning his head around, seeming suddenly less interested in this church in comparison to earlier.

“Let me assure you, with our increased security, Good Faith has never been safer,” Bonnie says as she presses a hand on her heart. “And those people who have gone missing, well, they are front and center in our prayers.”

Okay, Dean has to refrain himself from rolling his eyes. What good is praying to a God that doesn’t listen? At least with Cas, he knows he’s heard. Dean squeezes Castiel’s fingers slightly and is relieved when the Angel finally squeezes back.

“What a relief,” Dean says, hating how his voice sounds unconvincing. When her eyes find his, he quickly lets go of Castiel’s hand and rests them on his legs instead. “Now, you must have been, uh, close to them?”

“Well, we do share the A.P.U. bond,” Bonnie says. That sounds like it might be important?

“A.P.U.?” Dean asks. Bonnie nods quickly.

“Our chastity group,” she explains. “Abstinence Purifies Us.”

Dean literally bites his lip to keep the laugh inside. He throws one look at Sam, telling him that he should continue.

“Oh, wow,” Sam says. Damn, he’s such a terrible actor… “You mind if we sit in on that, maybe see if it’s for us?” Dean hates those words, but knows that it’s the only way for them to get in closer. Castiel still remains quiet, which worries Dean a little.

“I’m afraid it’s members only,” Bonnie declines friendly. She doesn’t seem upset by the question. That’s good. “I’m sorry, but it can get pret-ty personal.” She looks down with a big smile on her face. It remains quiet for a few miliseconds, but when Sam breaks the silence, Dean could almost kill him.

“Then count us in,” he says. Slowly, Dean turns his head to his brother, throwing him a ‘ _hell, no’_ expression, but the younger hunter only lifts his eyebrows quickly, silently telling him that he had no other choice. Bonnie studies them suspiciously, but only when Dean makes an agreeing movement she actually lets out a relieved chuckle.

“Well, I’ll be a squirrel in a skirt.”

 _What_ the Hell does that even mean?

“I’ll be back in a jiff with the papers.” With that she gets up excitedly. Dean watches her go, and only when she’s out of the office, he turns towards Sam.

“A chastity group?” he says, spitting the words out like they’re venom.

“Dean, listen, if all the members were in A.P.U., then maybe whatever took them is stalking virgins,” Sam throws back. It does actually make sense.

“And that Slim guy said he thought he saw fire. So, what are you thinking, dragons?” Sam only makes a ‘ _what else do you think’_ face, but goes to sit back up when he watches where Bonnie left. Dean turns to find her walking back to them. Castiel shuffles his chair a little closer to the desk, but his hands are made into tight fists.

“All righty,” she says, handing all three of them a clipboard with a document for them to sign. “You can just sign there and your purification can begin.”

Dean looks at the decorated paper he’s received, resisting once again to make an inappropriate comment.

“Purity Pledge?” Castiel suddenly reads out loud, and Bonnie seems surprised to hear him for the first time since they got here. She nods quickly

“It’s a commitment to your virginity,” she clarifies, as if that’s the most obvious thing.

“Well, aside from Cas here, I don’t think we can really un-ring that bell,” Dean says awkwardly, and Bonnie’s smile falters a little. “You know what I mean?” Bonnie looks a little taken aback when she comes to understand what he means, and even Sam sits there a little awkwardly. Castiel just looks confused, seeming at the verge of speaking up but deciding not to.

“Oh, I see,” Bonnie says. She lowers her head for a moment to think, but then the smile returns on her face, though less convincing. “Well… If you just ask for God’s forgiveness for your sins and make a new vow of chastity, well, then you’ll be born again as a virgin in his eyes.”

Dean really has to hold back a laugh. “So you just hit the ‘Virginity do-over’ button, and all is good with the man upstairs?”

Castiel punches him in the arm at the mention of God. Yeah, he does that a lot. Bonnie seems irritated by Dean’s choice of words. “It’s not a _button_ ,” she almost sneers, but managing to hold herself back. “And… this isn’t just a piece of paper.”

All three men look down to inspect the paper further, which would be hilarious for somebody watching them.

“I mean, this is your clean slate, your chance to be a virgin until marriage.”

Dean frowns a little at hearing marriage, not really ready to picture that happening to any of them real soon. He lifts his writing hand in the air and smiles fakely.

“Well, you had me at ‘clean slate’,” he says. “Let’s do this.”

Then all three of them sign the paper and offer the clipboards back to Bonnie, who smiles fully again as she accepts them.

“Congratulations, Sam, Dean and Cas Winchester. All three of you are virgins.”

 

* * *

 

Outside of the church, the three men get ready to get into the car. Dean is fumbling with his keys, feeling a little weird of whatever has just happened inside. He doesn’t feel different. Does he _have_ to feel different? Has it not worked?

Yeah, okay, he’s slightly uncomfortable from the idea of getting into a freaking chastity club. It’s all such bullcap, but at least it’ll help them with the case. He really shouldn’t complain. A few days here, case solved, and then they’re out of there so fast that creepy Bonnie-lady won’t even be able to say the word _virgin_.

“So, what was that about?” Sam asks as he leans against the car.

“What are you talking about?” Dean retorts without hiding his annoyance. He finally opens the car, but remains standing outside when it’s clear the other two do as well. “Did I say something wrong?”

“You said I was still a virgin?” Castiel clarifies, and nods in understanding.

“Well, yeah, it’s not like you ever put that dick of yours inside somebody, nor the other way around, so in fact you’re still a virgin, right?”

Sam coughs in embarrassment and he turns around, ready to throw his hands against his ear in case there’s any further explicit sentences coming out of his brother’s mouth. Dean just rolls his eyes at his childishness.

“Even so, Jimmy created a child with Amelia Novak, so this body isn’t exactly a virgin?”

Dean shakes his head but smiles at the Angel.

“But when you were brought back from the death, you were completely rebuild, remember? Adding to that that this body is now completely yours, so now without any of Jimmy’s experiences in the past you are as clean as any other virgin.”

Castiel only nods quickly before getting in to the car. They share a short smile for a moment. When Sam joins in to the conversation, they’re all sitting down.

“So you two never-?” he asks, but Dean interrupts him quickly.

“ _None_ of your beeswax, Sammyboy,” Dean bites, causing Sam to laugh. “By the way, what got your panties in a twist back there?” he then asks Castiel, referring to when they were in the office, and Castiel was all fidgety and moping.

“I don’t know, for a while it felt like my Grace was limited, like I couldn’t function right. It stopped as soon we left the church again,” Castiel explains. The way he talks makes it clear that he’s worried.

Dean nods quickly. Okay, so the church definitely has something to do with it.

 

* * *

 

_Good Faith Church, Sunday School Room  
That afternoon_

They get their invitation for the first meeting rather quickly; only a few hours after leaving the Church. After sharing their ideas about dragons over lunch, the three of them get a status report to Jody when she asks, and after that they’re on their way back to the church.

The room they’re in is big enough. There are six women sitting in a circle in the middle, and upon arriving, the three men each pick an empty chair at the door and add it to the group. They get interested looks, a few curious ones as well.

One blonde woman wearing a green sweater starts speaking as soon as everybody is quiet.

“Good afternoon, everyone, I’m Suzy. I thought we’d begin with a silent prayer for our missing friends,” she suggests, earning her a few nods from the other women. Everybody closes their eyes as they start praying in their mind – including Sam and Castiel. Dean keeps his eyes open, though, watching everybody as they sit there.

When Sam clears his throat, Dean startles, nodding quickly before joining the others. While the women are praying, all he can think about is what he’s going to eat for dinner. Maybe he can convince Cas to eat as well? That would be great, because Dean wants to introduce him to all kinds of food.

“Amen,” Suzy suddenly says, causing everybody to look up again. Bonnie looks so happy after her prayer that it almost freaks Dean out. “Now, does anybody have anything that they would like to share?” The woman waits while the whole group just sits there quietly. Then, another enthusiastic redhead with curls starts talking. Even from her face, Dean knows that he won’t like her.

“I wrote a new piece of verse,” she says as she fishes for a pink paper out of her pocket. She stands up while she speaks. “It’s called ‘sex is a racket, and God’s ball is in your court’.”

Okay, so that girl is looney, and. Dean holds back another snort and bites his lip in the effort.

“And we would love to hear that, Tammy – later. Why don’t we hear from our new friends? Sam, what brought you here to reclaim your virginity?” Suzy says. The girl, Tammy, sits back down, literally pouting. Dean can only think that he’s happy she chose Sam to open up instead of Cas. Imagine what the Angel would come up with…

Sam seems to hesitate for a moment. Dean finds it hilarious how his mouth just stays open like a fish happing for air. Or water, to be correct.

“Well, I guess because every woman I’ve ever… had relations with, uh…” He lowers his head again. “It hasn’t ended well,” he finally finishes. Dean chuckles, because that’s actually so true.

“He ain’t lying,” he says, earning him an annoyed expression for Sam.

“Thank you for being here, Sam,” Suzy says. “Stay strong, stay pure.”

Suddenly, all the women repeat her words. “Stay strong, stay pure.”

Dean feels very uncomfortable, now.

“Cas,” the woman says, pronouncing Castiel’s nickname with hesitation. Only when Cas nods, she continues. “What brought you to joining our group?”

“Uh,” the Angel starts, but he can’t seem to continue. Dean gives him a light pat on the shoulder to give him moral support. “I’m a virgin, and I care a lot about my religion,” he starts. He pronounces it all to make sure he’s not lying, and Dean strangely feels very proud of him. “But lately, I’ve been with someone, and my focus on what I believe in has made things unclear to me, so I figured I needed something to stay on the right track.”

Damn, now Cas can hold his own, that’s for sure. Suzy nods again, repeating her praise for him and reciting the words again, which the other women say again afterwards.

“And you, Dean? What set you on the path away from sin?”

Ow, crap. He should have seen this coming. “Uh, it’s hard to say, exactly,” he mutters awkwardly. He tangles his hands together and starts to think. “Sex has always felt – I don’t know – good, you know? I mean, really, really good.”

Next to him, Castiel shuffles a little in his chair, but Dean ignores him. He realizes that he’s talking to a group of female virgins. Maybe he shouldn’t exaggerate? He quickly corrects himself.

“Uh… but, uh… sometimes it just makes you feel bad, you know? You’re drunk, you shack up.” Oh, no, they _don’t_ know. A grin starts to form on his face as he thinks of this. Fuck this exaggeration crap, he’s got a few virgins to make uncomfortable!

“Then, it’s the whole morning thing,” he continues. “You know, ‘ _hey, that was fun_ ’. And then _‘Adios_ ’, you know? Always the ‘ _adios_ ’.”

A few women raise their eyebrows as they listen, others look away awkwardly.

“But, you know, when you get down to it, what’s the big deal, right? I mean, sure, there’s the touching and the feeling all of each other, my hands everywhere, tracing every inch of their body, the two of us, moving together, pressing and pulling… grinding.”

Everybody – except for Sam, of course, shifts uncomfortably in their chair. Dean grins, but just continues.

“Then you hit that sweet spot, and everything just build and builds and builds until it all just…” with his hands he makes a sudden movement that goes along with the exploding noise that comes out of his mouth. The woman that wrote a verse, Tammy, crushes her paper. The women start breathing loudly, and even Castiel seems to shudder for a moment.

Sam puts up a bitchface and clears his throat again, pulling Dean back to the real world. All the other members all look flustered from his little story, but it’s only when he turns to look at Castiel that he decides he should indeed stop.

“Yeah, uh, but the whole thing was just a little too, uh, sticky,” he says, not really knowing what else to call it. Hopefully, Castiel understands what he means, but the Angel doesn’t show any sign that he caught that. Instead, he looks quite troubled. Shit, has he said something wrong? “So, uh, I got my ‘V’ card back!” At that he slaps his leg, pretending that nothing is wrong for now, adding a little ‘ _the end_ ’ to conclude the story.

On the other side of the circle, Bonnie shakes her head.

At the end of the session, Castiel helps the women to stack up the chairs again to where they previously were. Sam comes to join Dean where he’s standing, giving him a disapproving look.

“Hm, so, wee bit of an over-share, Dean?” he asks.

“I was purifying,” Dean says in his defense. Sam just rolls his eyes and Dean’s eyes wander to the woman now being helped by Castiel. “Hey, she look familiar to you?”

When Sam finds who Dean is talking about, the woman thanks the Angel for his help. Dean doesn’t really like that look she gives him.

“Suzy?” Sam asks.

“Yeah,” Dean says, shaking his head slightly. “Swear I know her from somewhere.”

“Oh, good, Dean. ‘Cause that line never fails,” Sam says in exasperation. Dean just ignores him.

“Well, let’s find out,” Dean says with a smirk, walking up towards Suzy and Cas. Before he can get far, though, he’s pulled back by the arm.

“Dean! In case you’ve forgotten, you’re in a _relationship_ for Christ’s sake!” Sam hisses at him.

“Dude, I’m not gonna hit on her, I just really know her from somewhere!” Dean bites back as he pulled his arm free. He leaves Sam with Bonnie who has just come to join him, and gets to stand next to Cas. He puts a hand on the Angel’s shoulder, but is surprised when Castiel shakes him off in annoyance. A little thrown off of his feet, Dean frowns a little before turning towards Suzy.

“Hey Suzy, is it just me, or have we met before?” Dean asks, knowing very well that that could easily just be a pick-up line. He just hopes that Cas won’t take it that way.

“Uhm, I assure you that I don’t know you,” Suzy says quickly. She crosses her arms and lets out a huff of air, though the smile is still on her face. “I probably have one of those faces everybody has,” she quickly adds.

“Are you sure we don’t know each other?” he insists, because he could swear he’s seen her before somewhere. Next to him, Castiel remains quiet, and that makes Dean uncomfortable. He just wants to touch him to reassure him that he doesn’t have to worry about anything, but the Angel would probably just pull back again.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure we’ve never met, Dean,” she repeats, but still smiling. Dean nods quickly, but just doesn’t buy it. He wants to ask Cas if he could just check if she’s lying, but the moment he’s entered the church, his powers have once again wandered off.

“Wait, you’re – you’re new in town, right?” Suzy then asks.

“Uh, yeah, new to town, new to this whole chastity thing,” Dean clarifies. When he turns around, he finds that Castiel is no longer standing next to him, having wandered back off to Sam.

“Well, I provide individual counseling. If you ever need to talk-,” she explains, never really finishing her sentence. Dean’s eyes fly open for a moment.

“So, everybody in the group, they dish to you?”

“They confide,” Suzy explains. “Abstinence is – it’s really rough without support and education.” Then she makes a thinking face. “Hey, you know what? I have some great books on the vow that really helped me. I-I live close, I’ll just go grab them.” She’s already moving towards the exit.

“Whoa whoa whoa whoa, with a, uh, with a kidnapper on the loose?” Dean asks, genuinely concerned for her.

“No, I’ll be fine,” she adds, taking another step back but once again stopped by Dean, this time with a hand on her arm.

“Tell you what – why don’t Cas and I walk with you just to be safe, okay?” he offers. The woman smiles at him. “Just give me one second.”

He walks back to Sam and Cas, who are now listening to Tammy rant about something. Sam looks so done with her, but Cas seems very interested in everything she tells them. Dean smiles at seeing the Angel like that. He gestures for Sam to come, and Sam excuses them, dragging Cas along with him as he joins Dean.

“Cas, I need you to be bodyguard with me,” he starts while picking up his jacket. “You need to check Suzy for me as soon as we’re out of here, because I can _swear_ I’ve seen her before!”

Castiel just grumbles in response, which isn’t really what Dean’s been expecting.

“Excuse me, what was that?” he asks.

“I said, just go by yourself,” Castiel snaps, startling Dean and Sam. “I’m sure it’ll come up to you anyway, you don’t need me.”

After that, the Angel storms off, leaving the room so angrily that nobody dares to ask what’s wrong. Dean gulps in surprise from the sudden outburst, and to make it worse Sam punches him in the arm.

“Hey, what was that for?” Dean complains.

“I just hope you know what you’re doing,” Sam bites before running after Cas. Somehow, Dean feels like he should be the one doing that.

“Is there a problem, Dean?” Suzy asks. Dean recovers quickly, hating the fact that he’s so familiar with that face. He’s _not_ cheating on Cas, he has no intention to do anything with this woman because, despite his many faults, at least he’s faithful.

“It’s just me, apparently. Just lead the way,” Dean says. Suzy nods

When they arrive at the apartment, it’s awkwardly quiet. Dean silences a call from Sam, and the moment he looks up, Suzy’s crying. She’s sad for her friend’s disappearance, and for the first few minutes they spend praying on the couch. In the meantime, Dean is still no closer to recognizing her.

After that, she offers him the books she was talking about, and then she excuses herself when she needs to go to the toilet. A loud sigh escapes Dean’s mouth as he gets frustrated by the fact he can’t place her, and he goes to put the books on one of the counters. Once again, his cellphone goes off, and this time he picks up.

Before he can put the phone to his ear, though, he notices that one of the drawers is open, and a flashy DVD-box is inside. He can hear Sam call out his name on the other side of the line, but he ignores that and opens the drawer a little further, finding that there are two boxes, both of them from _Casa Erotica_.

His mouth falls open when he looks at the woman on the cover. On the first one called Cabana Nights she’s naked except for wearing panties, and she has her arms crossed in front of her breasts, in her hands holding a pair of samba shakers.

When he looks at her face, the connection is made. Barely able to hold back a surprised shout, Dean turns to the bathroom Suzy went to, and finally realizes that she’s the one on the box.

So _that’s_ why she looked familiar!

 _Holy Crap_!

“ _Dean?_ ”

Dean finally snaps out of his shock of his new discovery, putting the phone to his ear at last. “Sammy! Hey!” he says, a little too loudly.

“ _What’s going on?”_ Sam asks in confusion.

“I found something big!” Dean can’t really find the right words whatever this big thing is. His brother won’t ever believe him!

“ _Yeah, so did we. So get this – it’s not a dragon!”_ Sam reveals as Dean takes out the second DVD-box, recognizing this one as one he’s seen a few years ago. Holy crap, this can’t be true. Holy shit holy shit holy shit!

“Uh,” is all that can escape Dean’s mouth and he drops the DVD’s back into the drawer. “I really need to get back to the hotel,” he says, because how can he stay here when he’s had fantasies about this woman well before they met?

Before Sam can say anything else, Dean hangs up, pushing the drawer shut and leaning against the whole counter. He can feel his face coloring red.

“Hola,” he says, mentally slapping himself for that little slip. He pushes himself off the counter, ready to go back to the door and rejoining Sam and Cas in the hotel. He’s going to apologize to Cas so many times, and he’s sure Sam will be laughing about this for the next few years.

“Hola?” Suzy asks surprised. Dean shakes his head quickly?

“Nothing, never mind, my head slips into Italian sometimes without any reason,” Dean explains, knowing very well that that excuse doesn’t even make sense. He _really_ needs to leave.

“Are you okay?” she asks. Dean nods quickly.

“Me? I’m great, very great!” Dean says. See how the mighty have fallen; only a year ago he would have flirted the woman out of her clothes, but now all he can think about is Cas. Where is Cas, why isn’t Cas here?

“You seem, I don’t know, nervous?” she asks with worry. Dean shakes his head again.

“No, no no no, don’t worry. I just realized that Cas and I have a date tonight, and I really need to get ready for that.”

Yeah, using the ‘ _I’m already taken_ ’ excuse will make things easier, right?

Suddenly a knock comes on the door, and both Dean and Suzy look up in surprise. The woman frowns for a moment when the knocking comes again, only faster.

“ _Dean?_ ”

It’s Cas! Cas is on the other side of the door! Sam probably sent him! Oh, thank who-ever is listening.

“Ah, I should really go,” Dean says. He waves awkwardly at the woman, picks up his jacket, and hurries to the door. “I’m sorry for… not being able to read the books, maybe another time,” Dean adds hurriedly, and then he’s through the door.

Okay, _what_ was that? Unable to speak, Dean looks up at Castiel, who inspects him in worry, checking if he has any injuries.

“Dean, what happened?” Castiel asks, but Dean shuts him up by kissing him, hard. He crushes their lips together, wraps his arms around him, and holds on tightly. Castiel makes a surprised sound, but luckily he doesn’t pull back this time.

“Get us out of here, Cas,” Dean then whispers against the Angel’s mouth, and Castiel does what he’s told. In a matter of milliseconds they find themselves in their empty hotel-room rented. Sam is probably still in the other one, along with Jody.

“Dean, I felt your distress and I came right here as fast as I could. Can you just explain what was going on? Who was that girl?” Castiel insists. Dean just holds on to his hands, and even lifts Castiel’s left one to his lips to kiss his knuckles lightly.

“I knew she was familiar,” Dean breathes out. He throws his head back and laughs, much to Castiel’s annoyance. “She was a porn star, I used to watch her video’s a few years back.”

Somehow, Castiel doesn’t seem to like that answer, and he pulls away from Dean again. This time he doesn’t run off, but instead turns his back to the hunter. He comes to stand next to the window, watching the people outside as they walk on by.

“Okay, _what_ is your problem?” Dean finally asks in annoyance. Castiel shakes his head faintly. His arms are crossed again.

“You just seem to forget asking me about my opinion of things quite a lot lately,” Castiel mutters. He doesn’t turn to look at Dean as he speaks. “I just feel like I’m dragged along and I have to agree to everything you do or say; like I have to follow orders again.”

Dean’s face falls when he hears the heartbroken sound of Castiel’s voice. He then starts to walk forward again, getting closer to the Angel in a very slow pace. He has his hand held out in front of him, but when he’s at touching distance, he doesn’t quite yet reach for him.

“I also have this fear that one day you’ll leave me to be with some other woman, because that’s what you’re comfortable with.”

“Cas,” Dean whispers. What really can he say?

“I just wish my vessel had been a female,” Castiel adds quietly, which almost breaks Dean’s heart. He hates that Castiel thinks that’s a thing that bothers him. “Things would have been so much easier.”

“What would have been so much easier?” Dean asks, and now he finally wraps his arms around Castiel, hugging him from behind. The Angel leans into the touch, much to Dean’s relief. His eyes are closed, and when he turns his face around to press against Dean’s neck, he starts talking again.

“The sex,” Castiel mutters. He links his fingers with Dean’s, and the hunter lets him.

“But Cas, the sex already is amazing.”

“You know what I mean, Dean,” Castiel grumbles.

And Dean indeed knows what Castiel means. He nods softly, thinking about what he’s going to say next.

“You say I don’t ask after your opinion enough,” Dean starts. “I’m asking now.”

Castiel stays quiet for a moment, and then he pulls away from the embrace. He snaps his fingers to start the light in the room, and in a quick movement, he closes the curtains. When he turns back to Dean, he’s already busy opening his shirt.

“I want you to make love to me, Dean,” Castiel whispers. Dean swallows. “I want you not to hold back, because you won’t hurt me. You could never hurt me.”

That is too much praise. Dean feels his shoulders getting heavy at the words Castiel is speaking out. The Angel ignores it, though, and keeps undressing himself. He’s already fumbling the button of his pants open before Dean’s hands reach for his wrists to stop him.

“Cas, are you _sure_ this is what you want?” the hunter asks. Castiel’s blue eyes meet his, and they look honest. The Angel nods at him, leaning forward to catch his lips for another kiss. Then he moves his head next to Dean’s, with his mouth to his ear.

“Please, Dean,” he whispers as he pulls of Dean’s jacket and plaid shirt. “I want you inside me, to feel you.” They part shortly when Castiel takes Dean’s shirt off, kissing the hunter again when the clothing has passed his face and is thrown on the floor.

Dean’s hand travel all over Castiel’s now naked body, feeling every part again and again in gentle caresses. When he pushes the Angel back on the bed, he comes to lean over him, softly kissing his neck, then getting lower and lower until his lips are hovering above Castiel’s belly button.

Castiel gasps out from those feather light touches. He keeps his hands behind his head, surrendering to Dean like Dean did to him the last night. Dean holds on to Castiel’s hips as he kisses the Angel even lower, stopping right before he gets to his pubic regions. For a few seconds he closes his lips over a few hairs, and he pulls gently, not meaning to hurt him in any way. Once again, Castiel gasps for air, still not making any sound.

“You like this?” Dean asks as he lowers himself on Castiel, spreading the Angel’s legs so he can fit his hips between them. He rubs his face on Castiel’s thigh, enjoying the touch so much he never wants to let go. Castiel reaches for Dean’s head, letting his fingers through the hunter’s hair as he moves.

Dean doesn’t wait for Castiel to answer that, but instead resumes the kissing, pressing his lips in his inner thighs.

“Dean, please,” Castiel suddenly begs, and Dean looks up to watch his Angel. He’s already glowing, faintly, though, seeing as they’ve just started. He presses a hand on Dean’s face and strokes his cheek with his thumb, eyes silently pleading for more. Dean nods quickly and gets out of the bed to get to their bag – they share one, but let’s be honest here, Castiel doesn’t really has a need for other clothes, right?

After finding the tube and packet he’s been looking for, he returns to his Angel, dropping the things next to them. He doesn’t want to start just yet; he’s having too much fun teasing Cas for now.

Dean kisses him again while opening the tube, noticing how Castiel follows his every movement.

“You _do_ know what we’re about to do, right?” Dean asks. To be honest, he himself only recently did research on the matter, just to be prepared whenever Castiel would be ready for it. It had been like arriving into a whole new world. He noticed details he would never have thought of, positions that would make it easier for a first time – though, Castiel swears that he won’t feel any possible pain, so Dean guesses it won’t really matter on that front, right? Still, better be sure.

Dean pulls a little at Castiel’s shoulder to get him to turn around, which Castiel does in his confusion. He lies down on his stomach, allowing Dean to slowly kiss his back. Dean presses his face against the places where he would imagine Castiel’s wings being, and that gets such a positive response – an actual moan from Castiel’s lips – that Dean makes a note to remember that for the future.

“Tell me what you’re doing,” Castiel begs. His fingers grip the pillow tight. “I want to know everything.”

Dean smiles his teeth bare, and nibs a little bit at the skin on the Angel’s back. Another loud breath escapes from Castiel’s lips. Then he holds his hands together and squeezes on the tube to let a big amount of lube on his hand. He coats his fingers with it, rubbing them together to warm it up a little bit.

“First of all you need to relax,” Dean says with a soft voice, pressing one last kiss on Castiel’s lower back before reaching his hand to Castiel’s ass. “Now I’m going to prepare you, because even though you don’t feel pain, I want to do this the right way.”

Castiel nods, and Dean takes that as his cue. With his lips resting on Castiel’s shoulder blades, he presses his first finger inside his Angel. The glow on his skin gets even brighter, and his breathing gets even harder.

“This good?” Dean asks, not daring to move his finger until Cas tells him to.

“Y-yes,” the Angel mutters. That’s Dean’s cue to move. He pushes the finger in completely, then pulls out slightly, only to push back in. Castiel seems to relax immediately, because it isn’t long before Dean can add his second finger. When he does, he goes slowly again, letting Castiel adjust to the sudden addition.

“Dean,” Castiel whispers. His glow seems to flicker a little bit. It’s only when he looks up that he notices the lights have been turned off.

“Did you shut the lights?” Dean asks. Castiel nods quickly.

“Don’t need them,” he breathes out, “I’m enough of a light source.”

Dean chuckles at that. “Yeah, that you are.” He continues in this slow pace, working Cas open until he’s four fingers in. The whole process has required for him to add extra lube when he had arrived at the third finger, and now the gel is almost everywhere.

Slowly, he pulls his fingers back out, making a face when the slick makes a nasty sound. Quickly, he cleans his hand on the sheets, feeling sorry for the maid who has to clean their room. Then, Dean positions himself right on top of Cas, hips resting on his lower back. Dean’s lips connect with Castiel’s for a moment.

“Now, I’m going in,” he says, discarding the condom because there’s no possible danger for them. Cas is an Angel, he can’t catch anything, so he’s pretty safe. “You just take a deep breath, and if you need me to pull out, just ask.”

Castiel nods once again, but right before Dean can push forward, he’s stopped by Castiel’s hands. The Angel scrambles upright for a moment, wrapping his arms around Dean’s shoulders and kissing him quickly.

“Not like this, I want to see you,” Castiel tells him with his nose rubbing against Dean’s neck. How could Dean ever deny him? He nods quickly and pushes Cas back on his back. Then his hands travel to Castiel’s legs, pushing them apart a little bit, and lifting them up. Dean has done enough research to know that this only makes it easier for both of them.

“Lift up your hips,” Dean tells him, and Castiel does, allowing Dean to put a pillow underneath him. Content with the new position they have, Dean kisses Castiel one more time. They share one moment of eye contact before Dean pushes in at last.

“Oh!” Dean almost shouts out with all his breath pushed out of his lungs. He grits his teeth together and keeps still for a moment. He’s barely inside, but he doesn’t want to do this too fast.

He finds Castiel not much better than him. His blue glow now completely lights up the room, and Dean can see how his eyes are squeezed shut. He’s biting his lower lip, taking another deep breath as he adjusts to the sudden intrusion.

“You okay?” Dean asks breathily, and Castiel nods shortly. His mouth falls open, his hands reach for the pillow behind him again, and he holds it tight. With a small movement of his hips he makes it clear that he wants Dean to continue, so the hunter does. He gets in deeper again, wary of Castiel’s expressions, and eventually he’s all in. After that, he loses his balance and drops down on Cas, trying to catch his breath for a moment.

“Seriously, Cas,” Dean gets out, shaking his head for a little moment. “These multiplied feelings will be the death of me.”

Castiel laughs at that. His right hand goes to the back of Dean’s head, and he pulls him back up for a quick kiss.

“Don’t worry, I’ll bring you back,” Castiel says, and now both men laugh. “Now, can you please _move_?”

Dean nods again, this time leaning on his elbow, and he starts taking slow thrusts to begin with. Castiel pushes back with his hips, shudders when Dean’s free hand finds his thigh and pushes his leg back up. They don’t lose eye contact during the whole thing. Castiel’s touches him everywhere. Dean lets out small moans from the intensity of those caresses.

“So good, Cas,” Dean mutters as he speeds up his movements. He grits his teeth for a moment, enjoying how Castiel pushes back to his thrusts. It allows him to get in much deeper, and that’s actually what Dean wants.

He knows he’s found Castiel’s prostate when the Angel finally lets out a moan as well. It sounds so surprised, as if the sudden intensity coming from that bundle of nerves inside his body has just snuck up on him and thrown his off his feet. His eyes shoot wide open, his fingers make scratch marks on Dean’s back.

“You okay?” Dean asks, squinting his eyes from the intensity of the glow. “Damn, that’s a lot of light.”

“Please do that again,” Castiel begs him. Dean complies, pushing back the same way he did previously, and once again Castiel practically arches off the bed with an even louder moan. “Ahh!” he breathes out. Dean smiles, repeating the notion again and again, building up to his climax.

Judging from the breaths the Angel makes, he’s nearing too. So Dean lets go of Castiel’s leg to reach between them, grabbing his length in hand and stroking it, matching the speed of his thrusts. His partner throws his head back, baring his neck like he’s inviting Dean to kiss him again. So Dean does, reaching forward again and starting to suck at the skin on Castiel’s throat, leaving small kisses on every bit of skin he finds.

“Dean,” Castiel whispers. Dean pulls back, eyes widening when he suddenly sees the white light surrounding them.

“Holy shit!” he calls out, watching how the two giant white wings folds up around them, as if shielding them from anybody else. They look so real, so clean, so strong, but still intangible. He wonders what would happen if he would touch them. He let’s go of Castiel in order to reach his hand out, needing to feel those feathers on his fingers.

He makes contact with them the moment Castiel’s hand finds the handprint he’s left on Dean when he pulled him from Hell, and then everything seems to explode. Castiel screams out as he reaches the climax, spurting his load all over his stomach with a pleading sound in his throat. Dean, though, feels this strong wave of… whatever it is, travelling all over his body, starting from his fingers to his arms, upper body. It goes everywhere, and when it reaches the handprint, Castiel whimpers again.

Dean realizes that he’s come as well, taken aback by how he hasn’t even noticed that happening thanks to that sudden thing that has happened to them. Still, Dean doesn’t move away, but instead drops down on Castiel’s body. His heart is racing, probably a little bit too fast. He needs to calm down before he gets a heart attack.

“Dean,” Castel whispers with a shaky voice. “I didn’t know you were able to see my wings,” he adds. Dean smiles against Castiel’s neck. He doesn’t make any indication to move again, but neither seem to mind.

“That was the _most_ amazing thing I’ve ever felt,” Dean breathes out. His hand reaches out for Castiel’s wings again, slowly caressing the white feathers. “I always imagined your wings black.”

Castiel makes a movement at that, as if he takes a look himself. “My wings _are_ black,” he says in confusion. “At least, in Heaven they are.”

“Huh, maybe they lightened up because of the glow?” Dean asks. Castiel shrugs, smiling against Dean’s head.

“I don’t even know anymore,” he says. “All I know is that I definitely want to do this again.”

“Agreed.” They remain quiet for a moment, but then Dean starts again. “Cas?”

“Hmm?”

“You shouldn’t worry about me running off with some other girl,” Dean says. He finally comes upright again, slowly pulling out of Cas and reaching for an abandoned shirt on the floor to clean them both up. He doesn’t look at Cas while he passes the white shirt over him. “I might have many faults, but being unfaithful isn’t one of them.”

Cas looks at him intensely, staying quiet until Dean throws the shirt away again.

“Okay,” he says. Dean looks up at him.

“Okay,” he repeats, offering Castiel one last kiss before getting out of bed. “Well, now we need to get an update from Sam and Jody, because we’re still on the job.”

Both men start to get dressed, shooting each other playful glances, and when they’re finally fully clothed they head to the door. Before they can open it, though, there’s a knock coming from the other side. In confusion, Dean looks at Cas, who only shrugs. But then, his eyes go wide again. Dean catches it too late, though, having already opened the door. The next thing both see are bright blue flames, and then everything gets black.

 

* * *

 

 

_Unknown location, a few hours later_

“ _Dean”_

_“Hey, come on.”_

_“Dean.”_

_“Dean!”_

Dean is slowly shaken awake by two gentle hands, and the first thing he can feel is a strong pain on the back of his head. He holds back a groan, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Hmmwhere are we?” he asks while rubbing his eyes. When he looks up, he can see Castiel’s concerned face staring back at him. They are lying on the floor, next to a ladder. They’re surrounded by three people; two women and one man. Dean recognizes them as the missing persons from Jody’s report file.

“Hell,” the man says to him, and Dean could roll his eyes at him. He doesn’t even have any idea what Hell really is like. Slowly, Castiel gets him back up so that everybody is standing. Dean leans against the ladder, not steady on his feet yet. He looks around the room, trying to take in the place they’ve been thrown in.

Maybe the ladder? He just needs to open that trap door, right? He gives Castiel’s shoulders a light squeeze and then turns around to climb after taking over the lantern from the girl that would probably be Honor. The other four don’t speak at all, but just watch him as he gets higher and higher.

He should have known that the thing wouldn’t budge. Even when he pushes all his weight to it, it makes no use. He’s only getting his already sore muscles tired, and he should really hold on to whatever energy he has left to find a decent plan of escape.

“We tried,” the man that must be Neil says. “There’s no escape.”

“So what, there’s a window so we will obviously not die of air deprivation,” Dean says as he thinks out loud.

“Somebody wants us to die nice and slow,” Neil adds to that train of thought. The girl that still looks sane, Honor, looks up at Dean again.

“And then it’s gonna take us, just like it took Pastor Fred,” she says. Castiel comes to stand next to her, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“What took him?” he asks. The girl shakes her head, and her voice is trembling when she continues to speak.

“We couldn’t see exactly. It – it was so bright, it was like it was on fire.”

Dean gives the door one more push, but after that he finally decides that it’s not worth the trouble. He won’t get it open.

“Son of a bitch,” he mutters to himself while he climbs back down. The moment he touches the ground he faces Castiel, who now has his arms wrapped around himself as if he’s cold.

“You okay, babe?” he asks Castiel, offering him his jacket. Castiel gladly accepts hit, letting himself be hugged by Dean for a moment.

“It’s because of what we did, isn’t it?” Castiel asks against Dean’s chest. The hunter doesn’t answer, but instead kisses the Angel on the top of his head. When he sees that all the others have retreated already, he decides it’s safe to ask.

“How did it get to _you_?” Dean asks. They let go of each other, but remain close enough to hear each other whisper.

“My powers, they’re muted. I suspect Angel sigils. I felt it when you opened the door, but it was already too late.”

Dean nods and presses his hand against his chin as he starts thinking again. His other hand instinctively reaches for his phone, only to find it gone.

“Son of a-,” he starts, though he shouldn’t be surprised. Kidnapping 101, right?

“What’s wrong?” Castiel asks.

“They took my phone,” Dean explains. Then he reaches for his jacket Castiel is now wearing, and starts to fumble at the buttons. Castiel’s eyes widen in surprise when Dean rips the fabric open, fishing out another phone from it.

“How long has that been in there?” he asks dryly. Dean shoots him a pointed look, but then turns to the phone. He holds it in the air as he tries to find a signal.

“Come on, bars,” he cheers the phone on. At the corner of his eyes he can see Honor look up at him when he passes. He must probably pass every corner of the dungeon, but only when he gets to a little raster, a little bar appears.

“Holy-!” he shouts in relief, calling Sam without trying to move from where he is. Castiel still stands behind him, but doesn’t make any indication of coming closer.

He hears the phone going over, trying to get a connection with Sam. When suddenly he hears his brother’s voice on the other side of the line, he practically shouts in relief.

“Sam! Sammy!” he yells,

“ _Dean, hey!”_ Sam says.

“Hey listen to me, Cas and I are stuck here in the room with the other missing persons. It’s probably somewhere underground.”

 _“Say – again – can’t…”_ is all Dean hears from the other side of the line. Fuck!

“We’re trapped in some kind of dungeon!” Dean shouts then, but the only thing he hears is a beeping noise. Crap! He’s lost the connection.

“Don’t, Neil. Please, don’t,” suddenly sounds from behind him. Both Dean and Castiel turn around to the engaged couple. The woman, Barb, is hunched forward with her hands reaching for her fiancé.

“Don’t _what_ , Neil?” Dean asks irritated. He really doesn’t like this man.

“Just mind your beeswax, pal,” Neil shoots back.

Nope, that doesn’t sit well with Dean. He tilts his head to the side for a moment, angrily looking at the other man. Then he slaps his cellphone shut and marches over to the couple.

“Listen, we’re all stuck down here together,” he bites. He’s happy he’s taller than him, so at least he appears intimidating. “So you got something to say, you say it.”

“Okay, look, whatever that fireball thing was, it’s taking the weakest, and I’m not gonna be next,” Neil says, pointing at Honor. “So the way I see it, her leg’s busted anyway. We serve her up. It could buy us some time.”

“Screw you, Neil,” Honor shoots back angrily. Dean is really starting to lose his patience. He grabs Neil by his white shirt and shoves him against the wall.

“ _Busted leg_?” he asks, “Try a sprained ankle, okay? Nobody’s serving anybody up!”

“We are under the gallows, all of us. Give it Honor, it might save the rest of our necks. Unless you have a better plan,” Neil defends himself.

“Maybe I do,” Dean says, trying to control his anger. “Maybe we’ll give him you.” When he sees Neil’s reaction to that, he continues. “Oh, what, you don’t like that idea? Then shut up!”

After that he lets Neil go and walks away, returning to the little raster again. Honor shoots him a thankful look, and Dean only nods in return. Once he’s back at the raster, he fumbles a little bit with the metal bars, trying to pull them loose. Castiel joins him again, but doesn’t offer to help him. Both of them know that it’s no use. Unless he miraculously restores his powers, there’s no way they could crawl their way out of here through that raster.

“We’ll find a way,” Castiel says when Dean turns around again. They press their foreheads together for a little while, for a moment seeking comfort and inspiration from each other.

They pull apart when a sound comes from above. Dean and Castiel both walk up to the ladder again, but the others hide away. Neil is literally freaking out.

“Told you! It’s back for one of us! What are you gonna do now? Right, you should have listened to me-!” Okay, the guy is going crazy.

“Shhh,” Dean quiets him with his hand in a silencing gesture. “Shut up.”

“Dean,” Castiel whispers to him, but he stays quiet when they hear multiple voices from upstairs. It sounds muffled, but then, they can finally make out some of the words.

“ _Dean, Cas! We’re here! We’re gonna get you out!_ ”

 

* * *

 

 

  _Next morning, at the hotel._

“Heading out?” Sam asks Jody, who has her bag already thrown over her shoulder. She smiles up at him, resting a hand on his shoulder and nodding.

“Yeah…” she says. “I’d tell you boys to stay out of trouble, but what’s the point?” Then she turns to Castiel. “Besides, with that Angel on your side, no harm will come to, I’m sure.”

“Great help I was,” Castiel mumbles. Jody just walks up to him and wraps him in a strong hug. Castiel returns the gesture.

“Hush, without you I would have been walking around with a sling or something,” she says, chuckling. Then she lets go of Cas and turns to Dean. The older hunter hugs her as well.

“Thanks for bailing us out,” he says.

“Oh, what can I say? I’m getting the hang of this.” Sam hands her over her other bag, and she takes it from him, still smiling.

“Drive safe,” Sam warns her, causing her to laugh even further.

“Oh, before I go,” she says as she has her hand on the doorknob, “I’m happy for you two, Dean and Cas.”

Dean lowers his head with a blush on his face, Castiel only thanks her. After that she’s gone, and the three of them go and sit down at the table again. It was there that Sam and Jody had explained their side of the story; how they discovered it had been the Goddess Vesta that had taken them for breaking their chastity vow (the pair had looked away in embarrassment at that statement, but luckily, neither Sam nor Jody had asked about it), how she had apparently noticed Cas when he arrived in the church and quickly set up some sigils to ground him, how Sam had distracted her and Jody had stabbed her in the back with a wounded arm. After that, they’d gotten the other three people out of there and back to their homes, and Castiel had cleaned them up again. He’d healed Jody as well, which was why she now had been moving around as wildly as she previously did.

Now that Jody’s gone, though, Sam doesn’t seem to hold back. He smirks to himself, and neither Dean nor Cas like that expression on his face. They can almost guess what’s coming next.

“So, you two finally…” he asks without finishing his sentence. Dean throws him an annoyed look, and instead of answering he pushes his little brother’s head down and gets up to pack his stuff again.

“Hey, I just want to say congratulations, man!” Sam tries in his defense.

They make their way back home after twenty minutes of getting ready.

 

 

[Source of drawing](http://destielallaround.tumblr.com/post/102368433008/dani-hoath-ol-i-love-you-another-attempt-at)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, I'm kind of surprised I managed to fit one episode in one chapter. Anyway, next week, we will cover Sharp Teeth and The Purge. I will go a little faster over the episodes because otherwise it's gonna take an eternity to get to the plot!  
> At the end of season nine, the plot of the actual story will begin. 
> 
> Also, I'll spell-check it tomorrow. Today has been a full day of intensive writing, and I just want to go to bed as fast as I can.
> 
> Anyway, feedback is always appreciated; that way I know if people actually like this story. (is it obvious that I'm extremely insecure about EVERYTHING? Yeah, that's a downside on being me...) Also, hints and tips on how to make this story a better one are welcome as well.


	6. I'm with someone, if you can believe it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have been writing this chapter for a week. Somehow it seems longer than the others... is it? I'm not sure.  
> Enjoy, I hope it doesn't suck too hard

_Grantsburg Memorial Hospital, Grantsburg Wisconsin  
Three weeks later_

 

So, this is not exactly how Dean expected his day to be like.

No, his plans were to practice some shooting in the shooting arena, maybe teach Cas about the different guns, how to clean them, and with luck they would make out again afterwards, maybe have a quick session of hot sex before returning to the others and check for new cases.

His plans had fallen to pieces the moment he had just charged his gun, ready to shoot the target he set up. That was when Sam had stormed in, claiming that a John Doe had been admitted in a hospital somewhere in Wisconsin, and that said John Doe shared a lot of similarities to their missing… eh, well yeah, friend, Garth. Adding to that, to make it even worse, the Angels have summoned Castiel to return to Heaven. Something about ‘big news’ that couldn’t wait. And then, right before he left, the Angel said _it._ He freaking just _said_ it, and by that he left Dean all moody and gloomy the whole voyage to Wisconsin.

And that is how he now finds himself, dressed up in a cheap suit, next to a handcuffed, unconscious Garth, in a hospital in the middle of nowhere!

“What was he charged with?” Sam asks when he notices the handcuffs as well.

“Killing a cow,” Dean answers, leaving Sam surprised.

“Why?”

“Let’s find out,” Dean shortly answers, pulling out a syringe from his pocket. Sam’s eyes widen again, and quickly he pulls the thing out of his brother’s hand.

“Whoa, hey! What is that? Adrenaline?” he asks. Dean only shrugs, a little taken aback by the sudden outburst.

“You trying to jump-start him or kill him?”

“I want some answers!” Dean shoots back. He balls his hands into fists to control his anger, but it’s not easy. He takes a few deep breaths to calm himself down. “He walked out on Kevin, walked out on us, so if you got a better idea…”

All Sam does is sigh loudly, and then, without any warning, he slaps Garth hard in the face, causing the skinny hunter to shoot upright with a scream coming out of his mouth. For a moment he seems completely lost, gasping for air loudly. When he first notices Dean standing next to him, he looks up.

“Dean?” he asks in a whiny voice, then turning towards the other hunter, “Sam?”

Both hunters don’t speak, but just watch as the realization of his whereabouts hit Garth, whose face is now beet red.

“What is this? A hospital? Wait, am I in Heaven?”

Okay, so he’s literally delirious.

“All right, take it easy Garth,” Dean says while holding out a hand in a calming gesture. “You’re in Wisconsin.”

“You were hit by a car!” Sam adds loudly, as if he’s blaming the skinny guy for… well, getting hit by a car. “Do you remember anything?”

Garth groans in pain and is still gasping for air. His eyes are squeezed shut. Oh God, Dean hopes he’s not going to cry. “I, uh… vaguely,” he says, trying to reach his head with his hand, but he’s immediately stopped by the handcuffs. Now even more surprised, he inspects the thing in panic. “What’s with the hardware?”

Sam seems to take pity on him, already reaching inside his inner pocket to get his lock pick. Garth eyes him as he handles, but Dean just continues talking.

“You tell us,” he says, unable to keep the anger out of his voice. “And while you’re at it, why don’t you give us the lowdown on why you went AWOL for the past six months?” Still fully panicked, Garth turns towards Dean. “Only way we tracked you down is that you offed a cow.”

“Offed a… what? I- I was on a hunt,” Garth mutters, squeezing his eyes again as he seems to dig through his memories.  Sam, having finally removed the handcuff completely, puts the lock pick back in his pocket, straightening his jacket again.

“Hunt for what?” he asks.

“I- oh no,” Garth’s face turns a little green all of the sudden. He’s already sitting up, taking deep breaths again, obviously at the verge of throwing up. Dean cautiously takes a step back while the guy fights with the bed sheets in an attempt to get out of the bed. “Get back!” he screams, making strange noises and pulling all the monitors and IV off. The moment he’s out he rushes to the bathroom. Even with the door closed, Dean can hear how the guy suddenly makes vomiting noises.

“Good thing I didn’t give him the adrenaline,” Dean mutters. Sam throws him another bitchface.

For the next few minutes, all they can hear is Garth coughing and retching some more. Dean starts to feel uncomfortable really quickly. He drops himself on the bed Garth had been sleeping on, while Sam sits down on a chair, facing him. They remain quiet for a few minutes more before Sam starts talking.

“Heard from Cas?” he asks. Dean lowers his head licking his lips lightly before answering.

“Not since yesterday, when he left,” he says. He tangles his fingers together and leans his elbows on his legs to support himself. “He didn’t want to return to Heaven, but he said it was something about the elections. Anyway, I’m sure he’ll be gone for a while, since time moves slower up there.”

Sam nods, suddenly snorting. In confusion, Dean frowns at his brother. The younger hunter tries to explain, but takes back his words quickly, trying another way to phrase it.

“Don’t you think it’s weird they’re holding _elections_ to assign their new leader?” Sam asks, amusement clear on his voice. To be honest, the idea makes Dean laugh as well.

“Yeah, it’s a real human thing to do,” Dean confesses. “It was Cas’s idea, too.”

Sam only nods, turning his head towards the little bathroom where they hear Garth coughing on. Jeesh, how much can one skinny little human have to spit back out?

“So,” he starts again in an obvious attempt to distract themselves from that dreadful sound in the next room, “how’re things going between you two?”

Dean looks up at his brother, wanting to answer it immediately, but he hits a wall. Nothing comes out of his mouth, nothing comes to mind. How are he and Cas doing? The sex is great, yeah, but it’s not all just about that, right? It’s about finally feeling safe in his own bed, about no longer having nightmares but sharing his dreams with somebody he cares a lot about. About knowing that he has somebody who has his back, that he’s no longer on his own.

But, Dean thinks back of when they parted yesterday evening; how they had been lying in Dean’s bed together with not enough time to do anything other than kiss lazily for a few minutes. Their hands and legs tangled together, eyes not parting from each other, and breaths synchronized.

 _“Just come back quickly, okay?”_ Dean had asked him.

 _“I will do my best,”_ Cas had answered.

Then they had both kissed, slowly but still intense, unwilling to let go of each other. Cas had pressed his cheek against Dean’s, had rubbed himself against it in that way he always does (like a cat…), and then he had said it. Whispered it.

 _“I love you_ ,” he had said, and after that, he had been gone, leaving Dean in his bed to freak out.

So, yeah, Dean would love to say that things are good between them, but he can’t because he’s literally freaking out from the sudden change in their relationship. And he hasn’t prayed to Cas at all, not to let him know how he’s doing. Not to let him know where he’s at right now.

“We’re fine,” Dean finally grumbles out. He searches for his cellphone to busy himself with something in the hope that he could escape from Sam’s question. Sadly, knowing Sam, the guy won’t give up.

“Just fine? You’ve been snappy all trip, Dean,” he says. He crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow at his brother. Dean just rolls his eyes.

“Let’s just stop talking about this, okay?!” Dean didn’t mean to shout, but it seems like he’s reaching his limit. Immediately after that, he takes a deep breath to calm himself. His head is turned away from his little brother. “Sorry, I just don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fine,” Sam says in a neutral voice. At least he’s not angry at him. It’s only when they’re both silent that they realize the noise from the bathroom is gone. Sam is the first to notice, standing up and walking towards. He knocks on the door loudly. “Garth!”

No answer.

The brothers storm into the bathroom, only to find it empty. They turn to every corner, but Garth is not inside. When Dean finds the window, it all makes sense.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean mutters and he storms out of the bathroom.

 

* * *

 

 

They find Garth again two hours later in the house of the person whose car he rode with. When they burst into the house, they find the hunter already packing his bags. He holds his hands in the air when he sees the guns pointed at him.

“Whoa whoa whoa! Whoa whoa! Hey, guys. I can explain. Everything’s cool. Just as simple misunderstanding.”

Dean’s eyes travel all around the room. To his surprise, he sees a bra hanging on a chair. That surely doesn’t belong to the hunter in front of them.

“Who you talking to?” Dean asks.

“What?”

“The girl?”

“What- what girl? What the-?”

Garth stops talking when Dean picks up the bra from the chair to show it to him.

“What, now?” Oh, so Garth is gonna keep acting innocent. Well, Dean doesn’t play along to that. With his hand he motion’s Sam to check the building on the right, and he gets a nod in return. Then, Dean turns to the left with his gun still held up high.

“All right, all right. Guys, everybody needs to take a chill pill and put their guns down,” Garth continues.

They find that nobody else is inside the house.

“You see? Let’s all be grown-ups here and have an adult conversation.”

Adult conversation indeed. Dean is about to dump all his anger on Garth, because that son of a bitch dropped out on them; left Kevin unattended and never even tried to contact them.

Of course, Dean doesn’t get far, because suddenly this blond werewolf suddenly jumps out of the closet next to Sam and grabs his brother by the arm, much to everybody’s surprise. The woman wolf is growling as she tries to pry the gun away from Sam’s arm. Dean is already pulling out his gun to help his brother, but is quickly stopped.

“No!” Garth shouts out, pushing Dean’s arms back down. It’s only lucky that his finger was still far away from the trigger, or he would have shot accidentally. When Dean looks up again, the woman shouts in pain. He sees that Sam has pulled out his silver knife, and the minute it makes contact with her skin she pulls back. That just seems to give Garth enough time to come and stand between them. He has a hand raised in a stopping gesture.

“Sam! Please, don’t hurt her!” Garth begs him. Sam hesitates for a moment, but he doesn’t lower his gun.

“What are you doing?! She’s a werewolf!” Dean shouts out to the skinny hunter that is trying to protect the monster. The woman hisses at him.

“So am I,” Garth reveals, and then Sam drops his gun.

They let the hunter do when he gets his first aid kit and cleans up her wound on her arm. The brothers remain standing in the background, watching how the two work together. Dean eyes them suspiciously, hand still ready to grab for his gun in case it’s necessary.

Garth keeps on calming her down, telling her things are going to be okay, that Sam and Dean are friends. She doesn’t seem to trust them, though, and yeah, no, Dean doesn’t trust her either.

“All right, we’ve all gotten off on the wrong foot here so let’s do things right,” Garth says. Woman stays quiet. “Boys, this is Bess, my beloved.” Garth puts his hand on her shoulder, and they both smile at each other. It’s so sweet it’s sickening. Sam and Dean turn to each other, but they don’t speak.

“And Bess, that’s Dean,” Garth continues, pointing at Dean. “Now, he could start a fight in an empty house, but deep down he’s just a big ol’ Teddy bear.” Dean can’t help himself from rolling his eyes, and Sam chuckles from the comparison.

“And Sam here, Sam can be a bit insecure at times,” Garth then says while pointing to the other hunter. Sam glares at him. “But for good reason. Bless his heart.”

Okay, what does that even mean?

“That’s sweet,” Dean says sarcastically. This needs to end now. “Werewolf?”

Garth sighs now. “All right, guys, look – about six months ago I was outside Portland, Maine, hunting this big bad wolf. I took him down, but… he bit me in the process.”

“And you didn’t call one of us?” Dean points at both himself and his brother. Sam crosses his arms and nods in agreement.

“And tell you what? That I messed up? No, I-I knew the deal. There’s no cure, so I accepted my fate.” The woman looks back down to her wound. “Ate my favorite dish of egg fu Yung, watched the world’s greatest movie _Rocky III_ , and then… was ready to eat a bullet, when Bess here found me.”

They smile at each other a little more. Dean turns away, because he can’t stand it.

“And how did she do that?” Sam asks when his curiosity gets the better of him. This time it’s the woman who answers.

“Smelled him, how else?” she answers, as if that’s the most obvious answer in the world. Well, _not_ for a normal person, it isn’t!

“Yeah, she talked the gun out of my mouth and, as they say, the rest is history. We’ve been married for four months now,” Garth adds.

“You’re married?!” Sam asks just before Dean can.

“To a werewolf,” Dean then adds dryly, because, yeah, that’s something that needs to be addressed too.

“Yes, my pack has taken him in as one of our own,” Bess reveals. It’s the first time she’s talking directly to Dean. The brothers remain quiet for a moment.

Hey, Dean likes Garth; despite his… oddness, he’s still a cool dude, but they can’t just let a whole pack of werewolves live in these neighborhoods, right? No matter their good intentions, during the full moon they are still living killing machines that don’t think but murder off everybody that gets in the way. When Dean turns to Sam, he finds in his brother’s face that he has the exact same thought.

“Guy’s, it’s not what you think. We don’t hurt people.”

“No, you just go all Wolverine on cattle,” Dean throws back. Garth doesn’t respond for a moment, but then a little smile forms on his face, and he makes a soft agreeing noise.

“At least he’s not eating human hearts.” Damn, this girl is loyal to her husband? “Do you have any idea how hard it is for a bitten to control his instincts, like Garth does? How well he’s doing?”

Oh no, they start with the smiling again.

“Thank you, baby,” Garth mutters to her.

“Well, it’s the truth, honey bunny,” Bess responds.

Dean holds back a groan of annoyance and turns around to spare himself from that lovey-dovey crap happening on that couch. He sure as Hell isn’t like this with Cas, because this is just ridiculous.

“Wait, a _bitten_? You’re all bitten.” Sam smirks a little, probably because he thinks he’s outsmarting a werewolf about werewolf lore. What an idiot.

“Not at all,” Bess retorts. “You’re either born to it, like I was, or you’re bitten, like Garth.”

“Hold on, you said you were born a werewolf?” Dean asks in disbelief, because no book has ever covered this.

“Second generation,” Bess adds proudly.

So, that’s enough for Dean. This is too much new crap for just one day, he’s already pissed off for many reasons, and he just can’t take this without wanting to punch something.

“Garth, can we talk to you for a sec? Alone?”

The man addressed doesn’t move while he thinks this over. He eyes Dean, as if he’s trying to find out if the hunter is secretly just gonna try to kill him. Dean doesn’t blame him.

“Honey, why don’t you go find some ointment for that arm?” Garth then tells his wife, who seems to hesitate. “Okay?”

She finally nods and stands up to leave the room. At that moment, Dean just lets go.

“What the Hell?!” Dean bites out when Garth is standing up as well.

“Look, I know you guys want to shoot first and ask questions later, but I checked everything out. This pack is clean. Everything is Kosher.”

“Right,” Sam calls out sarcastically. “Uh, minus the part where your wife attacked me.”

“Yeah, because you two came busting in here like a house on fire. Guns waving, the jawlines and the hair – it’s very intimidating!” Dean nods a little, and Garth continues. “What did you expect? Dean, no one wants any trouble. You got my word on that.”

“Oh no, that ship has sailed,” Dean counters in annoyance, recalling all those months they never heard from him again. “We’re gonna need a hell of a lot more than your word.”

“Okay,” Garth says, looking down at his feet. “Okay, tell you what; you want proof? Come pray with us.”

O God, please, no more praying! As if joining that chastity club hasn’t been enough!

 

* * *

 

 

_Meanwhile, in Heaven_

“Welcome back, Castiel.”

Castiel has barely arrived when a small group of Angels seems to be awaiting him. There’s Inias, who greeted him upon his arrival, Hannah, Daniel, Gail, Hael, Ariel and Kokabiel, and all seven of them are inside a vessel. From their wings, Castiel can see that he should not feel threatened, so he pulls his Angel blade back inside his sleeve and greets all of them with a small headshake.

“Hello,” he says. Inias is the one who walks forward. His eyes never leave Castiel’s, and when he stands in front of him, Castiel points at the other Angels. “Are they the reason why you called for me?”

Inias makes shaky movements with his head as he can’t answer the question. He puts a hand on Castiel’s arm, gently pulling him along, then the eight Angels are on their way through the large hallways of Heaven’s current image.

“There have been some requests for you from the others. The Angels that have joined us here are a small part of the whole group, but we decided not to ask you this with all of us.” Inias doesn’t remove his hand from Castiel’s arm while he talks. Castiel gets a little confused while he passes door after door. The hallways appear snowy white, and the tiles are a light brown color. Above them there’s no ceiling, but clouds instead. Castiel has never seen it like this before.

“Ask me what?” he asks. Inias doesn’t answer, though, and instead he pulls Castiel along in an empty white room. The tiles and ‘ceiling’ are exactly the same, and there is no furniture inside. When all the other Angels have entered, Inias closes the door, and joins the circle they have made.

“Azrael, Ezekiel, Bartholomew and Malachi have all entered the campaign, but it’s not too late to still join,” Inias says, but he can’t clarify.

“Castiel, we want to ask you to run for leadership as well,” Hannah explains instead. Next to Castiel, Inias nods his head in fast motions. All the other Angels just look at him hopefully.

“Why would you want that?” Castiel asks, a little taken aback from the request. He can’t for the life of him find any reason why he could be a good candidate to rule over Heaven.

“Azrael has the goal to restore Heaven to its previous glory,” Ariel says.

“Bartholomew and Malachi too, but they also want to cut off Heaven from Earth so that _no_ Angel should come back down again,” Kokabiel adds.

“Ezekiel wants to encourage us to communicate more with the humans, instead, but he’s oppose to any romantic involvement between two kinds,” comes from Gail, who looks like she just can’t believe what Ezekiel wants.

“ _You_ , Castiel, you are the living example that being with humans for a long period isn’t that bad. You have shown us that we can have our own free will, that we can write our own story.” Hannah shares a look with all the other Angels who all agree with her.

“You have shown us that it’s okay for to feel an attachment to another being; you’ve shown us that emotions are possible for us, that we can feel love for someone while we always thought that it wasn’t possible for us.”

Castiel looks down while they speak. He starts to feel a little uncomfortable with all their words; they seem to be praising him for all these things, but Castiel can’t really see what good he’s been further than that.

“Brothers, sisters,” Castiel begins, and he takes a deep breath before he continues, “though I’m flattered that you all think so highly of me, I just can’t let myself be a candidate.”

He knows he isn’t imagining the disappointed looks on their faces, and it hurts him to know that he’s the one who put them there.

“I have caused so much pain, so much suffering up here,” he continues while recalling the civil war with Raphael that has been going a few years ago. The flashes of memories from when he was filled up with the souls from Purgatory also aren’t something he likes to remember. “I have literally destroyed our home, almost did it again with Metatron when he tricked me in doing those trials. It wouldn’t be right for me to even think about becoming a leader when I’ve been so bad at it the last few times.”

“But you’d be trying to make it right again,” Hannah presses on. She has a point, though; all the trouble that he has caused, he could set right again. He could help his brothers and sisters by rebuilding Heaven in a way that life would become better for everybody.

But taking on that role would also mean that he would spend less time back on Earth, with Dean, and that’s not something he wants to sacrifice for the slight chance that his brothers and sisters will accept the things Castiel believes in.

“I’m really flattered,” Castiel finally says after a few minutes of silence. “I’m thankful that there are still a few of you that stand behind me.”

He eyes the Angels one by one, seeing past their vessels to connect with their Grace instead. In that way, his gratitude comes by better and clearer.

“I’m not the Angel for the job,” he then continues. “Every time I try to fix something, it gets broken ten times worse, and by now I have learned that I could just better stay at the sidelines and help in any other way I can.”

Hael gets ready to interrupt him, but Castiel holds out his hand to her to stop her.

“Still, if any of you would like to run in the elections, I would be happy to be your advisor,” he concludes. The Angels fall silent. He can see on the faces of Gail, Inias, Ariel, Daniel and Hael that they certainly have no interest in the new politics of Heaven. Hannah and Kokabiel actually seem to consider his offer.

Before any of them can speak out their mind, though, the door opens, revealing Naomi with a serious expression – as always. She has her hands together and stands upright when she addresses them.

“Welcome back, Castiel. Would you like to meet our candidates personally now that you’ve returned?” she asks. Castiel can’t see why that would be necessary since he already knows the four candidates. Ezekiel had never been his friend, per se, but he was a very loyal and brave soldier back when they still had their garrison. Bartholomew had been a strategist; one of the best, according to Angels that served with him. Malachi had been called the weapon’s master, and knew every weapon in the world. He had also been the guardian of the weapon’s Balthazar had stolen a few years back.

Azrael, though, that’s the Angel he’s always stayed away from. Azrael was fierce, strong, and a bit of a traditionalist. She preferred to take female vessels rather than male ones, and had often been called the Angel of Death. She’s often mistaken with the Horseman, with that, since they’re both actual Angels of Death.

During the few meetings Castiel had joined over the last few months, he had never spoken to her, looked at her, or even thought about her. He’s not sure how she feels about his presence back in Heaven, and is not eager to find out in all honesty.

But now, as Naomi proposes for him to meet them all, declining could be taken the wrong way, so he doesn’t really have a choice, does he? He gives Naomi a small nod and then turns back to the Angels.

“Think about it, and pray for me when you’ve made up your mind,” he tells them. The others nod their agreement, and then he and Naomi are off. They spread their wings to take flight. It feels great to be able to fly again in the safe skies of Heaven, so he enjoys it while he can. He doesn’t plan on staying here long anyway.

He’s barely here for an hour and he already wants to return to Dean, to the man he loves.

Saying it to Dean had felt so naturally, but even now in the hours that have already passed on earth, Castiel can feel Dean’s discomfort. He’s quite sure that he has something to do with that. Right now he just wants to finish it off here and get back to set things right again with the hunter. Maybe he shouldn’t have said it. Maybe Dean isn’t ready yet for it.

His mind is still troubled when they touch down to the surface again. They’re in an open courtyard that looks like they’re in Greece. It clearly is some human’s Heaven, and when he sees the Greek woman pass by with her long white dress and hair pulled up in that classical way, he finds his suspicions confirmed.

“Follow me,” Naomi instructs. Castiel obeys, walking behind the Angel and passing by pillar after pillar. A little further away a few butterflies are flying together. He walks them by and then finally sees the four figures standing there.

Ezekiel still in his true form stands at the right. Castiel can recognize his Grace immediately, and feels calm at his presence. He’s also the first one to actually smile at Castiel when he appears in front of them with Naomi by his side. They greet each other with a short nod, and that’s enough for them; they don’t need handshakes, hugs, nothing.

“Castiel,” Ezekiel says.

“Ezekiel,” Castiel answers.

After that he goes to stand before Bartholomew, currently possessing a vessel with sharp features on his face and reddish blonde hair. The vessel has a wide smile that Dean would have considered fake were he here, and his teeth are as white as snow.

“Castiel,” Bartholomew says, and he suddenly wraps Castiel in a tight embrace as a greeting. Castiel doesn’t return the hug, but just stands there awkwardly with his arms pressed to his sides as he’s getting squeezed by the candidate.

When he finally lets go, he gets a few more pats on his shoulder.

“Hello, Bartholomew,” Castiel mutters, surprised that he actually can force out words at all. After that he moves to Malachi, who shakes his hand, but other than that doesn’t pay any attention to him at all.

And now comes the worst one of them all. Azrael.

She stands out from the others as she’s wearing a classic, white, Greek dress that seems to come from that time itself. The long black hair from her vessel is still loose, though. For the first time, he looks at her face, and he finds that the vessel is from Asian descent.

“Hello, Castiel,” she greets him without much expression on her voice. She nods at him tightly, and Castiel returns the gesture.

“Hello, Azrael,” he returns to her. She doesn’t smile, but she doesn’t seem angry at all. Her face is emotionless, plain, as if she has no feeling at all.

“I’ve heard you’ve considered to run as candidate as well? That’s a very brave decision.” The way Azrael’s mouth moves looks weird since the rest of her body doesn’t move as well. It’s only normal behavior for Angels, though, Castiel thinks. But by now, he’s learned so much from the humans that he’ no longer used to the way his brothers and sisters used to talk to each other.

“I’m afraid you’ve heard wrong, Azrael,” Castiel corrects her carefully. He does not want to upset her. He wonders why he’s actually so afraid of her, since she has never shown any intention to hurt him. “I am needed on Earth and am therefore not interested in running for the elections.”

Suddenly, Azrael lifts her head, and her lips twitch. Castiel is not sure whether that’s a good sign or not.

“Ah, yes, the human,” she speaks out, sounding degrading towards that last word. “So the rumors are true? That you’re having a romantic involvement with the Righteous Man?”

Castiel sees how the other three candidates, who have been listening intently, suddenly all look up at the mention of Dean. Castiel steers clear from their questioning glances because he doesn’t want their judgment on the matter.

“There has been word around me, then?” Castiel asks instead in an attempt to evade her question. This time a small smile appears on her face, which looks really foreign for her.

“A lot of word,” Malachi mutters beside her.

“You are denying the questions, which could only mean that you either don’t know yourself what the relation between you and Dean Winchester really is, or that you’re aware that the relationship might rightfully be judged upon by the other Angels?”

Castiel doesn’t want to give her the satisfaction of answering. Right now he just wants to join the elections just to spite her, to actually win it instead of her and have her live with the embarrassment of being defeated by the broken Angel.

“Don’t worry, Castiel,” Azrael says as she takes a few steps away. “I have nothing against you being with a human. It could be the perfect example to a brighter and better future for Heaven.”

Suddenly, all heads turn towards Azrael, who seems oblivious of the sudden attention.

“What do you mean?”

“There are few Angels who have the capability to love another being,” she clarifies. She takes a step towards the red roses the Greek soul had obviously planted, and with a touch of a finger, the flower blooms open completely. Shen she snaps it off the bush and takes the flower with her. “Heaven should be restored to the way it previously was, but not all the rules need to be the same.”

Castiel is really confused by her. She seems to think that she makes sense, but in fact he only hears vague declarations from her side.

“I just think we have more urgent matters to deal with than a very few Angels with emotions. But then again, it _could_ cause the trouble we don’t want if there were chances of the Nephilim returning, am I wrong?”

The others don’t react to her, but Naomi nods wildly in agreement. Castiel swallows in hesitation; is he supposed to feel threatened? She is intimidating, and almost trying to interrogate him. He takes her words as a warning for the future, but that warning is not necessary, though.

“You do not have to worry, Azrael,” Castiel speaks gently towards the stone cold Angel in front of him. “There is no possible way for Dean and me to create a Nephilim together. Even if I had a female vessel, Angels cannot carry children, as you are aware of.”

Azrael nods, but her expression doesn’t match the gesture since she still looks like she’s judging him for something.

“Aware of it, I am,” she adds, and then she starts walking back to the roses again. Her long white dress drags along on the ground, but doesn’t get dirty. Her large wings are still tucked against her back, and Castiel can swear it looks like the white feathers are glowing a little purple.

It seems like she has lost interest in them, but Castiel doesn’t mind, though. In all honesty, he hadn’t been interested in meeting here in the first place. He turns towards Malachi, Bartholomew and Ezekiel then, bows his head in a goodbye, and then he takes off again to return to the small group of Angels.

 

* * *

 

 

_Back on Earth, Grantsburg Wisconsin_

Dean didn’t like to be the guy who said ‘ _I told you so_ ’, but right now, he has a lot of trouble keeping himself from shouting it out to the skinny werewolf in front of him.

During the whole day he had felt that something wasn’t right. He had been invited to eat with Garth’s pack – nothing strange happened there – and Sam had been ready to leave the town, much to Dean’s dismay, but then there was this deer killing, sudden attack by that stupid son of a bitch called Russ, discovery of Ragnarök, and eventually there was a showdown in the barn where Bess’ stephmother had finally been shot by Dean.

And now they’re back in the house he’s been invited to before. Sam and Garth have already shared their usual goodbye-hug, and eventually the hunter had left the house, leaving Dean with Garth, Bess and her father. The last two seem still pretty shaken up from what had just happened, and Dean can’t blame him. That’s probably the reason why he’s not shouting at Garth that he was right all along.

“How’s he doing?” Dean asks as he nods towards the two in the kitchen.

“He’s taking it pretty hard,” Garth says “Feels like he should have seen the signs earlier.”

“Yeah, well, maybe you were right,” Dean admits after a moment. “Yeah, he seems like a good man… considering.”

Garth nods with a slight smile on his face, but all Dean can see are the bruises around the werewolf’s eyes.

“Yeah, and you were right,” Garth puts his hands in his pockets. “Everything around here wasn’t copacetic. I screwed up again. First I left Kevin all by himself, now this…”

“Hey, Kevin? He’s doing great right now, so don’t worry about him anymore,” Dean assures him. Garth doesn’t answer to that, so Dean takes that as his cue to leave. He nods shortly at Garth, eyes the other two in the kitchen shortly, and then he makes a turn. His hand is already on the doorknob when Garth calls out for him.

“Dean!”

“Yeah?”

“Um,” Garth chuckles shortly, scratches his nose and looks down. “I know this may sound a little crazy, but… maybe I could come back and hunt with you. I mean, with my werewolf mojo, we’d have an advantage.”

Dean then chuckles too, but it feels a little forced to be honest. “Look, Garth, as awesome as it would be to have both an Angel _and_ a werewolf in our little team-,”

“An Angel?” Garth asks in between. Dean ignores him.

“You are happy here, Garth. You have a new family, someone to come home to after a day’s work. You’ll never forgive yourself if you would give that up, so just don’t, okay?”

Garth gives him a fond look. A small smile creeps up on his face.

“You had someone on your mind while you said all that?” Garth jokes, but Dean can see that he’s genuinely interested. At first, he thinks about lying; it’s not Garth’s business what he and Cas are doing together. But then, he finds no reason not to tell. If he’s serious about being with the Angel, his friends should know.

“Yeah, eh, well,” Dean mutters. He reaches his hand behind his head and turns his face away. It’s easier when he can’t see the reaction Garth will give him. “I’m with someone, if you can believe it.”

“Oh, Dean, that’s awesome!” Garth calls out a little too loud. He corrects himself quickly, though, and almost whispers the next part. “So, who is the lucky lady?”

Oh, Garth has no idea. But, he’s heard of Cas. Dean can remember talking about him to the hunter a while ago, only then it had been more talks about frustration rather than praise. Cas was gone back then, then he was crazy, then he was brainwashed. Yeah, no, Garth has never really heard anything positive on the Angel.

Instead of trying to explain it, Dean fishes out his phone. A while back, Sam had taken a picture of them two together where Dean is standing behind Cas and has his arms wrapped around the Angel. The smile on the Angel’s face had been so genuine and beautiful that Dean had never wanted to get rid of the picture. Neither of them are looking at the camera, since Sam had never said he took it, but that doesn’t make it less Dean’s favorite photo of them together.

 

 

When he finds the image, he passes the phone on to Garth, who’s eyes only widen in surprise.

“Isn’t that… the Angel, Castiel?” Garth asks in disbelief. Dean shrugs with a red face. He feels hot all of the sudden, as if all the blood in his body has risen to his head. This is embarrassing, but he figures it’s a big step for him to finally come out and be open about their relationship with their friends.

“Yeah, that’s Cas,” Dean mutters. Garth nods, but there’s no disapproval in his face. When he thinks he would get the phone back, Garth only takes an extra look.

“You both look really happy together, Dean,” the werewolf then says as he hands the phone back. Dean puts it right back in his pocket, but he doesn’t answer. Instead he opens his arms.

“Shut up and come here,” he says. Garth grins, but doesn’t move immediately.

“Really?” he asks.

“Hurry up before I change my mind.”

Garth goes forward to hug him, and Dean gives him a few pats on the back before letting go again. He gives another small nod before he finally walks back outside. When he spots the Impala, he can see Sam already sitting inside. After having checked if their bags are already tucked in the trunk, Dean too takes a seat behind the wheel, but he doesn’t start driving immediately.

Shit, he thinks.

He has to get it out.

“Cas loves me,” he says before Sam can comment on him not starting up the car, and just like he’s suspected, his brother seems surprised by the revelation.

“Oh,” Sam lets out. Nothing more than that, just a simple _oh_. Dean snorts and plays a little with the keys to distract himself.

“Yeah,” he gets out. Cas loves him. Cas said the L-word and Dean had been freaking out all day, had been snappy, inattentive, and that had almost caused Garth and his wife to get killed by a crazy werewolf;

“And do you feel the same about him?”

The question makes Dean snap out of his train of thoughts. Huh, he’s never really thought of that, come to think of it.

But, when he wants to say _of course I do_ , nothing comes out. His mouth is open, lips ready to speak, but the words don’t follow. It’s like he’s hit a wall, and he’s stuck now. After a few tries, he gives up. He lets out a fake chuckle and puts the key in the ignition.

“He’ll understand if you can’t say it back right away, Dean,” Sam assures him. Dean just wishes they would stop talking about this already, even if he’s the one who started it this time. He feels so vulnerable all of the sudden, too open, like his feelings are put up in a gallery and Sam can check them all out one by one. He hates it.

So he doesn’t answer, but instead drives away.

 

* * *

  

_Heaven_

Upon arriving at the small room, Castiel finds that the little group of Angels is still there, again standing in a circle and with their attention towards Kokabiel. Castiel looks at his vessel for a moment. The man he’s currently inside is a tall and skinny man with curly orange hair. He has tons of freckles over probably his entire body. He has orange wings that match his hair, which could be coincidentally, or it could be because the bloodline of the vessel has always had red hair.

“Is there any news?” he asks without warning them of his return. The Angels don’t seem surprised, though. It’s impossible to sneak up on another Angel back here. Upon arrival, their Grace sense each other right away.

“Kokabiel would be interested to run as candidate,” Inias says with a smile on his borrowed face. Castiel nods in understanding, and where he thought he would find a hesitating Kokabiel, he sees instead a very self-assured Angel that stands strong in his feet.

“Good,” Castiel says, but he stays at a distance. This isn’t about him anymore; it’s about them, and unless they specifically call out for his help, he’s no longer needed in here. So, with that in thought, he takes off again. His first instinct is to go back to the dungeons to make sure that Metatron is still inside, but this time another idea makes him change his mind.

So instead, he travels through the parts of Heavens, trying to find that one specific soul he’s searching for, and eventually ending up in a big park.

It’s summer, so it seems. The grass is extremely green, there’s a light breeze, and a lot of families are spending their day there. Of course, Castiel knows it’s a memory. These families aren’t real, but just a mere image of the real families back on earth.

The soul he’s looking for sits behind him. She’s female, blonde, young, and she has a bright smile.

Dean’s smile.

“Hello, Mary Winchester,” Castiel greets her.

Mary just sits on the little blanket with a baby tucked to her chest. It’s Sam, Castiel understands. He must be about two months old, if he’s correct. It seems like her Heaven is an afternoon spent with her family in this park. A little further away he can see John Winchester and Dean at the little lake with a small boat that floats. The toddler-version of Dean looks at the toy in fascination, and Castiel can’t resist a smile.

“Hello, Castiel,” she says in obvious recognition. Castiel shouldn’t be surprised; she has been watching her sons for years, so it’s only normal she knows who he is. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Please, sit down.”

And so Castiel does. He sets himself next Mary, but still with a distance between them. From closer by, he can see small freckles painted on her skin. Like Dean’s.

“I’m sure you’re here about my son?” she asks before Castiel can get to the point. Castiel nods quietly, and Mary smiles. “I can see that you care deeply about him.”

“I love him,” Castiel corrects. It should be strange to say that, but it just isn’t. He’s the Angel that has learned to have emotions, to care about others in a way that his brothers and sisters never have.

“Yes, so you’ve told him.” Dean’s mother is still smiling, but now she’s looking down at Sam, who has his little hands reached out to his mother. “This day might seem like a normal, boring afternoon to others, but to me, it has so much meaning.”

Castiel doesn’t get a chance to say something else because the four-year old Dean is running up to them with his little boat in hands. He has the biggest smile on his face, and his eyes are so honestly happy. It breaks Castiel’s heart a little to know that his Dean has seen so many bad things in the world to have this innocence grown out of him the way it did.

“Mommy!” Dean calls out. “Daddy says that later today we can get some ice cream! I want chocolate! Can I have chocolate? With those little chocolate sprinkles!”

Because the Dean and Sam of here are just a memory, they’re not able to see him sitting next to their mother. Finding that John in fact _can_ , makes Castiel realize that they share their Heaven together.

“Castiel,” Dean’s father greets him.

“John Winchester,” Castiel greets back.

After that, Dean nods, as if his mother has just told him something, and then he runs off again. “Come on, daddy! Let’s sail again!” And with that he’s off alone, though in reality John had followed him.

“About time we get to meet you, son,” John says. He holds out his hand to Castiel, and a little taken aback, Castiel accepts the handshake. He had expected for John to be harder on him, so be bitter and sour about the fact that his oldest son is in a relationship with an Angel.

“It is, indeed,” Castiel adds quietly. Then John sits down next to Mary’s other side, and he takes over the baby in her arms. Mary allows him, and both of them are smiling at each other. Castiel feels a strange bit of jealousy at seeing them together like this. He recalls his earlier conversation with Azrael. _There is no possible way for Dean and me to create a Nephilim together. Even if I had a female vessel, Angels cannot carry children._

Back then, he hadn’t really thought about it, but now, seeing Mary and John Winchester together with their two sons, Castiel feels envious of them. Not because he wants to have children in the near future, but because there’s no way they could raise a child with the way they live. It’s just too dangerous.

“We’ve been keeping a watchful eye over our boys,” John suddenly starts. Castiel can see that Sam is currently sucking his finger. The baby has his tiny hands wrapped around that same finger to stop him from moving away. It’s only natural instinct for babies to do that.

“They’ve accomplished great things,” Castiel says. “You must be proud.”

“We are,” Mary confirms. “They have saved the world so many times, they are probably going to become a legend amongst other hunters.”

Castiel recalls the Supernatural-books Chuck had published when he was still alive. The _Winchester gospels_ , as it is supposed to be called in the future.

“And they’ve grown so much. Sam has become quite the responsible man,” at that, Mary looks back down at her baby, who looks up as well as if he’s noticed she’s talking about him. He lets go of John’s finger to smile at his mother. “But Dean, he’s been having it so hard the last few years. I’m glad he’s finally found someone he can feel safe with.”

Castiel doesn’t speak. In all honesty, he finds that he’s afraid. He can feel how distressed Dean had been after he revealed he loves him. He fears that his beloved will never share that feeling with him at all.

“I’m not sure what’s going to become of us,” Castiel confesses to them, because he feels he can ask for their help. He’s surprised again when Mary suddenly takes his hand in hers. Her wedding ring feels cold against his skin, but he doesn’t mind that at all.

“Castiel,” she comes to sit on her knees in front of Castiel. Sam lets out a whimpering noise, but otherwise it’s quiet. It looks like all the other families have left. At the small lake, Dean is still giving his little sailboat a push, and he squeals when the toy floats on the water. “Dean has never been one to share his feelings a lot because he found other people’s problems more important than his own. Now to this day, it isn’t easy for him. Just give him time, and though he probably feels the same way, you shouldn’t expect him to say those three words anytime soon.

“Now, return back to Earth, be with Dean, and make it clear to him that you’re here to stay.”

Castiel nods again, thankful that he could find a helpful figure in his partner’s parents. He greets both John and Mary, holds out his finger to Sam who actually grabs it, and then he moves to the lake where Dean is still kneeling.

Castiel hunches down next to him and looks at the little ship that still floats, but barely moves forward. Dean doesn’t seem to mind, though. He keeps on laughing. Castiel leans toward Dean and presses his lips softly in the boy’s hair before he stands up again to make his leave.

Still, he has one last stop to do before he can get back to Dean. As fast as he can, he makes his way to that familiar soul of his friend, and when he finds it, he smiles at the faces he sees surrounding this soul.

“Well, it’s nice of yer feathery ass to finally show up,” he says. Castiel smiles and shows the man a fond smile.

“Hello, Bobby.”

 

* * *

 

_Lebanon, Kansas, Men of Letters Headquarters  
A week later_

So, it’s like this.

Take away the demon-part of Crowley, and then give him enough time to adjust back to humanity, it turns out he’s still pretty much a jerk.

Also, he seems to be everywhere, just to annoy them. He’s so quiet, sometimes he just seems to creep up on them for the kicks. It’s clear now that, since Crowley had been an asshole before he became a demon, his personality hasn’t much changed.

“Can’t we just kick him out?” Dean had tried after a few days of constant complaining from the ex-demon, who seemed dissatisfied with the mattress of his bed. Like, seriously, how could anybody _not_ like memory foam?! Even Castiel likes it and he doesn’t even need to sleep!

But as usual, Sam had answered with an eye roll and a short _no_ , and so far the subject hasn’t come up anymore.

But Dean’s patience is once again tested when he’s sitting in the kitchen one morning. He’s up early because he has trouble sleeping without Castiel watching over him – and no, he’s never going to admit that to _anybody_. He also still hasn’t prayed to the Angel since he left, and he starts to feel a little guilty about that.

So, yeah, when Crowley comes barging in to the kitchen, Dean knows his line is about to snap and pretty soon he’ll shout out all his frustration on that asshole ex-demon in front of him. The lack of sleep from these past few days isn’t helping much either.

“Ah, honestly, squirrel, I must admit that, since our beloved little Angel isn’t with us anymore, my nights have been _much_ better,” Crowley says while filling his cup with hot water. They’ve put a lock on the refrigerator, mostly so that neither Dean nor Crowley could get to the alcoholic drinks. Sam’s idea…

“He’ll be back,” Dean says without looking up from the laptop on the table. By now the words in front of him are fuzzy and it looks like they’re dancing on the screen. He can’t even remember what he’s been researching about, either. Jesus, he’s tired.

“Yeah, wouldn’t count on that, loverboy,” Crowley mutters. He walks over to the top shelf and picks out a tea bag, then dips it in the hot water, and with his spoon he circles around his cup. He sits down across from Dean, much to Dean’s annoyance. “You know how Castiel has this trouble with keeping his promises. Besides, I’m sure they’re offering him grand opportunities back up in those high mountains of Heaven, so _why_ really would he return back to a human whose lifespan is no longer than a bloody minute in an Angel’s point of view?”

Dean growls in return; an empty threat. Although he would love to smash this guy’s brains out right now, he’s just too tired for it. His body is aching, his eyes are falling shut every minute, and he’s pretty sure that he’s seen a bird pass by above Crowley’s head just now.

“Shuddup Crowley,” Dean mumbles. He comes to stand again to fill his cup of coffee. When he drinks from it, the drink appears to have gone cold, and he makes a grimace when he swallows.

The thing is, Crowley is right; why would Castiel actually return to him when he’s got a much better life ahead of him back up in Heaven? They’re changing their regime there anywhere, so maybe he could help change it to the better, and then it would just be the perfect home for him, right?

Even thinking of Castiel staying up there makes Dean feel sick.

He’s seated behind his laptop again when Sam enters at last.

“Hey,” he greets his brother, ignoring Crowley (who ignores Sam in return).

“Hey,” Dean mutters without looking up. His voice sounds a little hoarse.

“Did you go to bed at all, last night?” Sam asks in concern. He fills his cup with coffee as well, and his reaction to the cold drink is the same. Instead of just letting it be, though, he starts to make new one. He’s at the sink cleaning up the coffee pot when Dean answers.

“Yeah, no, kind of. Couldn’t sleep, and then I found that _Rudy_ was on, so I watched it. He remembers it vaguely, though. “And then there was _Unforgiven_ , and then I went to do research.”

“Research on what?”

“I don’t even know, man,” Dean mumbles. He rubs his eyes in the process and yawn loudly. “I think I found us a case, though.”

Sam turns around after drying off the pot. He picks up some powder, puts it in the machine, and after the press of the button, the brown liquid starts filling the pot. Dean watches how it works; it’s really wonderful, though, isn’t it? How coffee can be made from just a powder? Cas once told him that, a real long time ago, humans chewed on the beans instead of making powder of it. That must have been weird. But it’s just so awesome that his Angel has been there in person to it all.

It’s badass.

Suddenly, he realizes that his brother is looking at him in a questioning way.

“Eh, what?” he asks.

“Okay, so, you want to hunt and you’re barely functioning? You better get some sleep before we take off, then.”

Dean rolls his eyes, but then turns the screen towards his brother with the article about the death he finds suspicious.

“Strange death in Stillwater, Minnesota,” he explains. “A competitive eater died after a hot dog-eating contest.”

Sam drops down a plate on the table, right next to Crowley, and then walks back to the sink. Dean watches him pass for a moment.

“So what? Death by tube steak?” Sam asks from behind him. Dean chuckles.

“If only. He got attacked in his car, but, uh, get this – he shrunk from 300 pounds to 90 pounds.”

Crowley now looks up as well, but he doesn’t speak up. Instead, Sam starts throwing in suggestions.

“Witchcraft?” he tries. Crowley snorts next to them, but they both ignore it.

“Or a heavy-duty laxative,” Dean adds. “You game?”

“Yeah.”

Of course he is. Dean shouldn’t have asked that question to begin with.

“Good,” he says, and then he closes his laptop. “Looks like it’s a whore’s bath for me. I’ll be ready in five.”

Dean is already at the door when Sam stops him. With his head down, Dean stays where he stands, waiting for the inevitable worried speech of his brother.

“Five minutes, my ass, Dean,” Sam says. “You’re going to bed, and we’ll go when you’re well rested.”

Dean wants to tell him not to worry, that he’s fine, but Crowley has already opened his mouth.

“I believe that, as long as his little Angel isn’t there to hold him in the night, he won’t be wandering off to sleepyland at all, Moose.”

Okay, so Crowley’s right. Still, he needs to shut up. Dean has his hands balled in fists, and tries his very best not to bash this guy’s head in. Maybe smash his face against the table and with that breaking his nose? As long as he bleeds Dean’s happy.

“Dean, just call Cas!” Sam tells him, as if it’s just that easy for him. Dean shakes his head lightly, but doesn’t turn around.

“Fuck off,” he mumbles, and then he leaves the room.

 

* * *

 

 

_Meanwhile, in Heaven_

Bobby is once again seated in his wheelchair, but he can easily stand up and greet Castiel with a long hug.

“It’s good to see you again, boy,” Bobby grumbles against Castiel’s shoulder. The Angel returns the hug, and can’t find it in himself to let go. He realizes how he’s actually missed Bobby since his death. When Dean had told him how the old hunter died, Castiel only wished he had been there to heal him. At least then he could have spent more years on Earth with the brothers.

“It’s good to see you, too, Bobby,” Castiel tells him, and then they let each other go. Bobby goes sit down in his wheelchair again, and from his memory, the image of Jo Harvelle passes him by. Castiel can see himself where she’s headed. He has a few shot-glasses in front of him, and on the opposite end of the table, Ellen has the exact same amount. Castiel smiles at the memory. Despite the fact that both Harvelles died the next day, that evening had been a good one.

“So, to what do I owe this visit?” Bobby asks. He rolls himself to the couch of his house, and Castiel follows to sit next to him. On his other side, the memory of Dean is seated, and he’s talking to Sam. Castiel doesn’t listen to it, because he knows Dean had, back then, been planning on hitting on Jo, and that’s a fact he’d much rather forget at the moment.

“I don’t know,” Castiel admits in all honesty. “I just came back from the Winchester’s Heaven. They’re happy with how their children have turned out.”

“It’s only right they are,” Bobby mutters. He takes a swing from his bottle of beer, but Castiel figures that’s more out of habit than need. “Them boys have done so much good that only a fool wouldn’t be proud.”

Castiel nods in agreement. In the background he can hear himself say ‘ _I think I’m starting to feel something_ ’, and he chuckles again. Oh, how naïve he had been back then.

“You turned out good, too, Cas,” Bobby suddenly says. He offers Castiel a bottle as well, and though he doesn’t need it, he still accepts it gratefully. Bobby shortly nods at him. “Back when I first met ya, y’were nothing more than a robot. It’s good to see you’ve grown massive amounts of humanity inside that vessel.”

Castiel smiles again and takes a first taste of the beer. It doesn’t taste like anything, though, but he doesn’t mind at all. If having a beer together is how he can please Bobby, then he has no trouble bringing him that pleasure.

“You’re also really helpin’ Dean, ya know?”

Castiel looks up at him with his eyebrows raised. Bobby just shrugs.

“He’s been happier these days. At least, so far I’ve seen from above the clouds.”

“Yes, he’s been a lot happier indeed,” Castiel agrees. And then, Bobby says something more, but Castiel doesn’t hear it. Instead, he hears Sam’s voice inside his head. He sits upright again as he listens.

“ _Cas, if you hear this, get your ass down here and make sure Dean gets some sleep!”_

Castiel sits up immediately and offers his full bottle of beer back to Bobby. “I’m sorry, I just heard that there’s something wrong with Dean,” Castiel explains. Bobby snorts, but takes the bottle from Castiel.

“It’s fine,” he assures him. “Tell ‘em I said hey, and don’t wait too long to visit again, ‘kay?”

“I promise.”

And then he’s back on earth, right in the kitchen of the Men of Letters headquarter, where Sam is sitting at the table eating breakfast. Crowley is sitting there as well, slowly sipping on a cup of tea. When he notices Castiel, though, he swallows his drink wrong and starts coughing in panic. Castiel ignores him, he’ll live.

“Cas,” Sam says when he acknowledges him standing there. He stands up to stand in front of the Angel, and before Castiel can say anything in return, he’s wrapped in another hug. “Thank you for coming.”

“It’s no problem, Sam,” Castiel tells him. “Now what seems to be the problem?”

Crowley starts speaking then. “It’s squirrel, he’s having sleeping trouble because his dream catcher isn’t there to save him during the nights.”

Castiel throws him an angry look, but gets a shrug in return. Then, he thinks back of the sentence. “Do we have a squirrel here? You need me to get rid of it?”

“No! No no! No!” Sam calls out with his hands up in front of him. “He means Dean. He’s been putting off sleep and now he wants to go hunting with practically having no sleep in the last week.”

Castiel nods, then. He appears to have lost track of time on Earth, otherwise he wouldn’t have stayed long. He spreads his wings again, and before Sam or Crowley can blink, he’s already in Dean’s room, where the hunter is busy packing his bag for the hunt.

“You’re not going to hunt like this, Dean,” Castiel tells him in a hard tone. Dean turns around to him, and Castiel feels his heart break when he sees how tired Dean looks. He has dark circles around his eyes, and his lips seem chapped.

“When did you get in?” Dean asks distantly. He obviously still seems distressed from their departure. Mary had warned him he would need time. Castiel is willing to oblige. He walks forward to his lover and presses a hand to his cheek. For a moment, Dean leans into the touch, but soon enough he pulls back.

With a sudden turn, he resumes with packing his things into the small bag they share. Without any warning, Castiel grabs his arm to stop him. He can almost feel Dean losing his patience, but he won’t surrender. Dean is a danger to himself if he’s going hunting in this state.

“You are _not_ hunting like this,” Castiel bites at him. He’s clamping his jaw shut in his anger.

“And _you_ are not the boss of me!” Dean shouts back. He pulls his arm away from Castiel, but otherwise doesn’t move any further. Castiel can see a sigh escape from Dean, and he wants to hold him, to comfort him, but he just can’t.

“What’s wrong Dean?” Castiel asks in defeat. He keeps his eyes glued on Dean’s face, but the hunter won’t look up at him. Instead, Dean shakes his head. His hands are balled into fists.

“Nothing’s wrong,” He mutters back. Castiel doesn’t believe him.

“Is it because I had to leave again? I can ask the Angels to meet me on Earth, Dean, they won’t-,”

“It’s not freaking that, Cas!” Dean now screams. His breathing has sped up immensely, his face has turned red.

“Then what, Dean?” Cas pushes on, unafraid of what Dean might do in his anger.

“Just leave me alone,” Dean hisses at him. He crosses his arms to keep his hands to himself. He’s hunched forward, a position Castiel has never seen Dean in before. It worries him, and he doesn’t like it. But no matter how vulnerable Dean looks, Castiel has to push the answer out of him. Dean needs to let his troubles go.

So Castiel keeps on.

“ _What_ , Dean?!”

And Dean seems to snap. His arms free themselves from their position, and are now angrily hanging next to Dean’s body. Castiel can see Dean’s muscles tense up from the position, but he figures the fists have something to do with it.

“It’s your sorry-ass being in _love_ with me, okay?!”

Castiel falls silent. Dean does the same, but he doesn’t relax at first. Eventually, though, he slumps his shoulders. His hands lose their strong grip and let go. His head lowers back to the floor. A long breath comes out.

“You love me, and I can’t handle that just yet,” he barely whispers.

Castiel aches from the confusion on Dean’s face. Dean looks so conflicted, so pained and troubled.

So scared.

Castiel takes a step forward to him, continuing when Dean doesn’t flinch at the movement, and when they’re finally right in front of the other, Castiel just waits.

“You shouldn’t love me, Cas,” Dean whispers. “It’s bad luck. I’m cursed to hurt all the people that love me.” Then he leans forward and presses his forehead against Castiel’s chest. It’s a strange position, since Dean’s taller than Castiel, but somehow it works. Castiel’s hand find the back of Dean’s head and he softly strokes through the short strands of hair.

“Dean,” Castiel whispers against Dean’s hair. The hunter doesn’t respond other than making a soft noise. At least, Castiel has his attention. “I’d rather have you, cursed or not.

“That’s what you once told me, isn’t it? You chose me despite all the dangers I brought along, and right now I’m doing the exact same thing.”

When Castiel feels Dean’s tears through his clothes, he lifts his other hand to Dean’s forehead, and with one short wave of energy, the hunter is asleep.

 

* * *

 

 

_Stillwater Minnesota, many hours later_

Dean finally wakes up again when they just passed the sign that states they’re entering Stillwater. He obviously doesn’t catch on immediately, though, instead rubbing his eyes and yawning loud and hard as he tries to get to wakefulness completely.

“Finally up,” Sam says with mixture of humor and worry in his tone. He’s trying to grin at his brother, but he can’t help the small frown in his brows. Completely disoriented, Dean looks around in slow movements. He cracks his neck quickly to turn his head. Sam keeps his eyes on the road in order to avoid Dean’s angry glare that will obviously come soon.

“That son of a bitch,” Dean mutters next to him. Okay, so his brother is not mad at him? That’s great!

Sam makes a turn to the first motel he sees – which he has also looked up before leaving – and parks the car in a random spot among all the other open spaces. Before Dean can speak again, Sam is already out.

“Wait here, I’ll check us in.”

And with that he leaves his brother in the car.

When he gets back with the key to their room (after having turned away a cup of coffee the young woman at the reception offered him), Dean is outside of the car with his head pressed against her roof. Upon approaching him, Sam can hear him groan. In frustration? In pain? In exhaustion? He doesn’t know.

“Let’s drop our stuff and suit up,” Sam tells him. He walks to a door a little further away from the parked car. Hastily he opens up the room and barges in. Two beds are right next to each other with barely any space in between them. The covers are pastel blue with some strange cubes drawn on them. It looks cozy enough.

When he turns around he finds Dean still standing at the door. He has the two bags hanging lowly in his hands, and his eyes are pointed to the floor. Sam can see from where he’s standing that Dean is angry, which, yeah, that he can believe, actually.

“Listen, Cas put you to sleep, zapped you into the car, and told me that we had to get to our case. What could _I_ do to stop him? He’s an _Angel_!”

Dean frowns a little more but finally walks forward again. He throws the bag towards the bed, closes the door, and then points at Sam.

“We are going to do this case, we are not going to discuss Cas unless I bring him up myself, and you’re not gonna do that thing where you asks every hour if I’m okay, okay?”

Sam swallows. Something stops him from agreeing.

“What happened?” he asks instead. Dean lifts his finger in front of Sam’s face. Is scowl is even deeper.

“Not. A. Word.”

After that, they get into their suits and make way to the police station. When they arrive, it takes showing their badges at the reception to be allowed to enter the bunch of desks right behind the front desk. They have to admit that this is one of the most open police station’s both brothers have ever seen. There are series of large windows on the walls with a view on the streets. Dean is looking around and watches an old woman at the reception where they had just been standing before a sheriff with a blonde, messy bun and a slight accent had told them to get to the other side of the desk. The space is open, light. At the windows, there are a few chair for the people who have to wait. At the reception there are two computers. An agent is coming towards the old lady to help her out.

“Thanks for your patience, agents. Coroner’s report finally came in,” the sheriff from before, Donna, says as she hands them the documents of the case on the victim.

“All right, thank you,” Sam thanks her. He opens the folder and Dean watches along right next to him. On the picture they find that the victim has ended up to be nothing more than stretched skin on bones. “Did Waye McNut really weigh 300 pounds just moments before time of death?”

“316 to be exact.”

“And the official cause of death?” Sam asks.

“Cardiac arrest,” Sheriff Donna says with an obvious and disapproving tone. “But between you and me, that’s just a guess.” Then she turns around to hand her last case report to the girl on a desk a little further away. “The vic suffered massive organ damage; ruptured spleen, pierced liver, collapsed lung. Looked like everything was just sucked out of him.”

Sheriff Donna pours herself a cup of coffee.

“Like he’d been hoovered?” Dean asks. Sam rolls his eyes.

“Yeah,” the woman breathes out. “Yeah, you know, I got to be honest, fellas-,” she interrupts herself to offer the hunters a donut from the box. Sam shakes his head but obviously Dean can’t find it in himself to decline, though. How long has it been since he’s got a donut? Probably too long in Dean’s opinion. Sam just rolls his eyes at his brother again.

“We’re stumped,” Donna continues. “This type of thing just doesn’t happen in Stillwater!” She then takes a bite from the powdered snack, but it results in half her face getting covered with the sugar. She seems oblivious about it, though, and instead just keeps on chatting. Sam reads on in the casefile.

“Now, did Wayne have any enemies?” Sam asks. Sheriff Donna tilts her head to the side as she thinks, and a soft thinking noise comes out of her white-powdered mouth. Dean then takes a big bite from his donut as well. It’s obviously written on his face that he loves it. For a short moment he closes his eyes and enjoys the taste, but immediately he recovers, having apparently remembered that they’re still on a case here.

“More like an unfriendly rivalry. A guy named “Slim Jim” Morgan. Like Wayne, he was pretty well-known in the competitive-eatin’ circuit."

When Sam sees his brother, he finds him with sugar covered all over his mouth. It’s quite the sight, and if they hadn’t been on a job, he would have laughed. In all his subtlety, Sam motions to his own mouth in a message to him, and with a thankful nod, Dean lifts up his napkin to clean up. Of course, he wipes right at the spot where there’s no sugar at all. Once again, Dean nods at him. Sam decides to let it go, and instead tries his best to focus on the sheriff instead, which is hard as well since the sugar is also all over her face.

“Competitive-eating circuit? Is that a big thing out here?” he asks. Sheriff Donna nods.

“Oh yeah, you betcha,” she says in all seriousness. “Folks take it real seriously – train for months.” She nods at Dean, who nods back. “Eat all sorts of wackadoo stuff, you know, like, uh… baked beans, buff wings, butter…”

“Butter?” Dean exclaims with a grin on his face. Sheriff Donna nods

“Yeah, sometimes deep-fried,” she adds to it. Sam sees his brother look down at his donut for a moment, but eventually he takes another bite of it. When Dean smears more sugar over himself, Sam internally shakes his head.

“This year alone, Wayne won the Butter Bowl, the Wing Ding, and Shrimptasia.” Sheriff Donna shakes her head disapprovingly with her donut still right next to her mouth. “Anyhoo, point being; Wayne McNut was the only one Slim Jim couldn’t beat in the whole Great Lakes region.” She takes another sip from her coffee.

“So he’s a suspect?” Dean asks while chewing. Sam can’t hold back a silent sigh, but it looks like the Sheriff doesn’t mind his lack of manners.

“We checked him out, but Slim Jim was in the Hot Doggery at the time of Wayne’s death, and we got 15 witnesses to prove it.”

“Really?”

“Yah.”

And simultaneously, both of them take another bite from the donut. Sam ignores them.

 

* * *

 

 

_Meanwhile,  
Warsaw, Poland_

The old city of Warsaw is filled with tourists walking around with their cameras. A small, British group is led by a young male guide that looks like he’s just jumped out of the cover of a magazine. A few girls flock together, and scream all of the sudden when they recognize some actor from a teenage movie wandering around with sunglasses and a cap with vibrant colors. A child starts crying because he wants to go on a ride in the chariot, though his mother calls out that it’s too expensive and that they’ll go horseback riding when they’re back in Sweden.

Castiel sees it all happening while he’s sitting at this café outside. The waiter had brought him a glass of home-made iced tea, but the Angel hasn’t touched the cold drink at all since he got here. Neither have Inias, Hannah, Gail nor Kokabiel with theirs.

They are just five Angels, sitting in a café in Poland, but nobody’s speaking to each other. That also isn’t the point of why they here.

They’re here because they want to be around humans. They want to see what it’s all about.

“Oh, yeah, there’s, like, this superhot Polish guy who waited on me, and he actually winked as well! I think I’ll leave him my number,” an American girl says into her pink phone. She has this long, straight brown hair, a pink headband, and a lot of make-up on her face. She’s chewing a gum, and toys with it with her manicured fingers. On her nails she has bright pink fake plastic things that Castiel doesn’t really get.

“Yeah, well, I _know_ he’s from Poland, sjeesh, I’m not stupid Britt! We’ll just go out while I’m here, I’ll steal his heart, and when I’ll return home he’ll follow me and we’ll get married and have beautiful little Polish children.”

Castiel mutes out the conversation. It doesn’t interest him at all. His mind instead wanders back to Dean, who would be extremely angry by now.

Right after Dean had been brought unconscious, Castiel had laid him on the bed and immediately joined him in his dream. There, he had found himself in a place where Dean and Sam were just sitting by the Impala, drinking a beer together and unworried. Cas hadn’t wanted to disturb the brotherly moment inside Dean’s head, so he backed out again.

For three hours he had left Dean sleeping in his bed, but he knew there was a case the brothers had to get to, so after a few moments of convincing Sam, they put Dean in the car so they could drive over already. Castiel had pressed a soft kiss on Dean’s forehead before Sam drove off, and whispered a soft _I love you_ in his ear.

“Gail,” Castiel suddenly starts, turning to the Cupid on his left. The Angel turns her gaze away from a young couple at another table. “Can you explain love to me?”

Gail smiles widely at the question, but she doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, she shuffles a little forward in her chair and rests her elbow on the table.

“You can explain that, yourself, if you would tell us here the things you feel around Dean,” she tells him. He realizes he now has the attention of the other Angels. They all wait for him to speak up, but he hesitates. Is it appropriate for him to discuss this with the other Angels?

He does it anyway. He tells Gail all the things that come up to him; how Dean is the light of his eternal life, how he would follow him anywhere. How everything else seems to dull when Dean’s around. He explains that he feels emotions that he’s not supposed to have when Dean touches him. How his Grace has connected with the hunter’s soul when they made love for the first time.

And Gail takes his hand when he’s finished, and squeezes it lightly. The other Angels just sit there, unmoving. Castiel has the feeling that he should feel relieved for letting these feelings out, but he’s still feeling something uncomfortable inside himself.

“Dean is uncomfortable because I told him I love him,” he says to Gail. The Cupid’s face falls lightly, but not a lot. Quickly, her smile returns to her face, and she pats his hand lightly.

“He’s just stubborn,” she tells him. “Dean Winchester isn’t the kind of human to accept his feelings quickly. He’ll need some time, but I can assure you, while he can’t say it, his feelings are just as strong as yours.”

Castiel smiles at her thankfully and nods lightly.

Then they continue their observation of the human race. The start for them to understand them.

 

* * *

 

 

_Lebanon Kansas, Men of Letters Headquarters  
Three days later _

Solving the case has done nothing to improve Dean’s mood. He snaps at everybody who talks to him, only spends his hours in the couch with more coffee (since alcohol is still not allowed by Mrs. Tran), and finishes the whole first season of Game of Thrones, hating that he only brought the first one along.

Dean’s mood has been so bad that even Crowley steers away from him. That, at least, is a good thing, Dean figures. At least that asshole doesn’t bother to… bother him anymore.

But after a while, after watching all the episodes from the Dr. Sexy-DVD box he bought in all secrecy, he finds himself alone in his bed with a scowl on his face so bad that the muscles in his face start to hurt.

He sighs loudly as the credits pass over the screen of his TV, and turns to look at the side next to him. The empty space on his bed that is supposed to be filled. Dean swallows hard, his mind hurts from thinking too hard. They are thought he’d just wish he wouldn’t have. Thoughts that need to be talked out, even though it hurts Dean to admit it.

He bites his lip for a second before standing up. He turns off the TV, hides away the DVD-box, and clasps his hands together when he’s again seated down on the side of the mattress.

“Heya, Cas,” he starts in hesitation. He isn’t sure if the Angel would come with how he snapped at him the last time they saw each other, but he can at least try. “We’re back in the bunker, case went fine. It, uh, it would good if you would…”

He takes a deep breath.

“Look, we need to talk, because this? This isn’t working-.”

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel says from behind him. Dean springs up from the bed and turns around to see Castiel standing there.

He looks sad?

“Cas,” Dean says, finding himself unable to lessen the space between them. He wants to get closer, he really does, but he just can’t. So instead, he keeps his head up and eyes on Castiel. The Angel, in turn, doesn’t break that gaze.

“You wanted to talk,” Castiel mumbles to him with a low voice which makes Dean frown. He hasn’t seen him this upset a lot.

“Yeah, can you just-?” Dean doesn’t finish his sentence, but instead points to the bed. He sits down on it again and pats the other side. Slowly, the Angel moves forward, but he hesitates before dropping down next to Dean. Eventually, both of them are seated with a safe space between them.

“You are ending this relationship, aren’t you?’ Castiel asks in such a broken voice that it aches from the inside. Dean’s hand is already reaching out to him, but immediately stops. He keeps his hand awkwardly in the air before dropping it again.

“What makes you say that?”

“You said it isn’t working? I thought that, if I would just give you time, you would grow to accept that I love you. It appears that it had the opposite effect.” Castiel’s eyes leave Dean’s to lower to his own hands, which are fumbling with the sheets instead. This time, Dean stops him.

When their skin makes contact, Dean feels warm all over again. It’s a feeling he’s found himself missing. He can’t hold back the urge to lift Castiel’s knuckles to his lips, and he kisses it softly.

“I would never end this thing between us,” he promises the Angel. He’s surprised by his own cheesiness; he’s never been the type for life-long commitment, and yet he finds himself wanting nothing else with Cas.

Castiel looks back up at him, unmoving. It’s like he’s paralyzed on his spot.

“Listen, Cas, I’m sorry that I’ve been so stone headed about your revelation that day. I panicked, was angry at you for ruining this thing we had while things were going so well.” Dean pulls Castiel’s other hand up too, and holds them together. “But I can’t do this ignoring-thing anymore.”

“Me neither, Dean,” Castiel whispers. Then he leans forward and drops his head in Dean’s neck. He frees his hands from Dean’s grip and wraps him in a hug instead. Dean returns the embrace with a strong hold.

“I missed you, man,” he breathes out, but this time he’s smiling.

“I love you,” Castiel returns, voice barely audible. This time, instead of freezing on the spot, though, Dean takes in the words. He swallows hard, licks his lips, but hits another wall when he wants to return those words. So instead, he says:

“I need you.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

Here's a visual of Azrael, who is going to play a large-ish role in the rest of the story. Original drawing [here](http://destielallaround.tumblr.com/post/111665156638/i-finally-found-the-kind-of-antagonist-of-my) (beware, though, if you don't want any spoilers, don't read the description of the drawing.)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on tumblr [here](http://destielallaround.tumblr.com)  
> Holy moly I hope this link-thing works  
> by the way, I broke my heart with Bobby's Heaven. Apologies if I did the same to you.
> 
> Anyway, comments and feedback are appreciated, at least that way I'm sure this fic isn't a complete disaster :-)


	7. Actually, I'm genderless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this chapter's a week late; I was at a weekend with my colleagues from the playground, but I really didn't like it there. This might be why this chapter is so crappy it should actually be thrown into the trashcan right away. I'm far from happy with this one, but at the moment, I appear to happy with nothing, so it could be just me.  
> I hope it's still a little bit acceptable, though.
> 
> Chapter warnings: flashbacks of past rape and Hell. Also, the Ghostfacers appear. Beware
> 
>  
> 
> If there are still some mistakes, I apologize, I must have read over them when I checked for them.

_Lebanon, Kansas, Men of Letters Headquarters_

 

Six months.

That’s how long it has been now.

Somehow, Dean finds himself looking at the date in disbelief. Monday, 21st of October. It’s like the number is glowing in front of him. Like it has suddenly become a beacon of light, there to attract all unwanted possibilities to ruin one’s day.

“Holy crap,” he mutters, realizing that he still has one day to go until that one day is due, but it doesn’t make it less frightening.

Okay, so frightening _isn’t_ the right word; it’s not like he’s afraid of that day, most certainly not. He didn’t even made the connection until Sam mentioned it. If he hadn’t, both he and Cas wouldn’t even have thought of it.

“ _Hey Dean, you should do something nice with Cas for your sixth month anniversary,”_ his younger brother then had called out that morning.

Damn him and his perfect view of relationships.

For the following few weeks since their last fight, Dean and Castiel had come up with a routine where Cas goes to some random place in another part in Europe, or where-ever else, Dean stays at the bunker to do research or goes to some hunts with Sam, and by evening, the Angel joins Dean again, they eat together (though Dean does most of the eating since Castiel doesn’t need to) and then they go to bed.

Before Dean goes to sleep, Castiel tells him he loves him. Before Dean effectively falls asleep, he squeezes the Angel’s fingers in an only response. So far, he hasn’t returned the words back to the Angel, but every time he’s tried, he gets stuck. So instead, he shows it in his actions; he holds him extra close during the night, he lets his soul connect with Cas’ Grace every time they make love, and in his dreams, the places he takes the Angel to are often in such a domestic setting that he almost doesn’t recognize himself anymore.

Now, one day before their sixth month together, Dean finds himself wanting to do something great for Cas. Something that could show the Angel the words he can’t speak. Something so profound, so honest. But _what_ can he do?

Taking him out for dinner is out of the question; the Angel doesn’t eat, and it’s a little bit too public for both of their tastes. They don’t want to draw any attention on themselves from potential monsters around them.

Castiel is the most annoying person to watch a movie with; he questions all the inaccuracies, over-analyzes every character, and tells stories of when he visited that one location they mention in whatever scene. So, no movie night, either. Hell, Dean adores the guy, he really does, but even he has his limits.

He feels like he should ask around about this, but who really can he ask? It would be embarrassing to ask his brother, Kevin would come up with some crazy teenage-ideas that Dean has outgrown years ago. Asking Crowley would just be a massive bruise in his pride; also, the guy is a prick, so Dean doesn’t want to lower himself to the ex-demon’s standards. To be honest, Mrs. Tran would be the wisest decision, but she’s currently out to some strange gathering for women and something about books. (Sam checked if it was clear for her to go, so at least they know she’s safe.)

If only Charlie were here; she would boldly give him all he needs to organize something great. The only way to contact her is if he asks Cas to take him to Oz. That would be suspicious, so he doesn’t.

So, Dean just stands in front of the calendar with zero ideas in his head. Sam and Kevin have walked him by a few times, asking if he’s okay. He always answers that he’s fine, just thinking. He has no idea how long he’s standing there by now. He’s busy biting his lips as he tries to find _anything_ good that Castiel would appreciate.

Eventually, Sam comes to stand behind him, presses a hand on his brother’s shoulder, and Dean startles awake from his thoughts. With his eyes wide, he turns around to Sam.

“What?!” he asks, but the moment he realizes he’s overreacting he quickly pulls back. “Sorry, man,” he mutters at his brother. Sam only rolls his eyes at him and shakes his head.

“Listen, I’m sure Cas doesn’t want anything elaborate. I guess he wouldn’t even need to celebrate. But if you really want to know what the dude wants, why don’t you just ask some of his friends?”

Dean eyes his brother with a frown on his forehead. He crosses his arms in confusion.

“You’re his friend?” he asks him. There comes another bitchface.

“I mean another Angel, genius,” Sam then counters with a smug smile. Dean’s face turns a little red. He doesn’t really know if bringing up the other Angels would be a good idea? They’re all emotionless bastards, as far as Dean knows.

“Anyway,” Sam then suddenly continues. “I’ve been looking around for another case, and it looks like I got something.”

Silence. Dean looks at his brother. Sam looks at Dean. For a moment, Dean keeps his mouth shut, wondering if Sam stopped talking because he’s heard something. He focuses on the sounds around them, trying to find anything out of the ordinary, but other than Crowley screaming at the TV-characters for being stupid, nothing comes to mind that could stand out. When Dean lifts his eyebrows at Sam, his brother does the same. His eyes look all around Dean, obviously searching for something. It’s then that Dean realizes Sam isn’t hearing anything; he’s just waiting for Dean’s approval to continue speaking.

“Please, do share what you’ve found?” he asks in annoyance. Normally, Sam would have just continued talking, so Dean doesn’t understand why he has to fish after it. Sam nods his head and a hesitant chuckle comes out of him. Dean just rolls his eyes at him and puts his hands on his hips.

“Right, sorry,” he mutters and pulls out a printed picture. “It’s in Washington, photo leaked from the crime scene. Girl was murdered in her room, doors were locked, windows were locked as well…”

Dean gets handed a picture from a girl, probably something she took with the camera from her phone or laptop. She looks happy, she smiles and all, but obviously unaware from the shadow behind her. Dean’s eyebrows raise up in surprise. After focusing on it  little more, he finds a pale man in a suit, face disfigured with no eyes, nose or mouth.

“Who’s the Slenderman behind her?” he asks. Sam shrugs lightly.

“My guess is a ghost caught on film,” he offers. Dean doesn’t really want to jump to conclusions, so he just nods his head lightly and passes the picture back to his brother. “So, you in?”

Dean hesitates a little bit. This case might take longer than two days, and he would have even less time to plan something for him and Cas. But on the other hand, he isn’t one to turn away a case like that for personal reasons. He swallows hard while he thinks. Tries to ignore the way his brother looks at him expectantly.

“Yeah, okay, fine,” he mutters. He throws one last look at the calendar and makes a silent promise. _You’ll get your anniversary, babe_.

 

* * *

 

 

_Springdale, Washington  
A few hours later_

 

The house where Casey Miles got murdered is at the corner of a street in the suburbs. The walls are a soft beige color, the roof has black tiles, and it looks like one of those high-end houses compared to its neighbors.

Mrs. Miles is friendly when they ring her doorbell. She looks pale, still shaken up about the death of her daughter – which is extremely normal, of course. She lets the two brothers in and brings them to the girl’s room without any more questions after they introduced themselves.

Upon arriving in the bedroom, the woman points at the open closet. Dean and Sam follow her, and find a large – though a little faded – bloodstain on the carpet.

“I scrubbed for hours. I’ll have to rip up the carpet,” the woman starts explaining without there being any question asked. “My daughter Casey, she picked out the color herself.”

“We’re… very sorry for your loss, Mrs. Miles.” Sam makes an unconscious grimace, somehow looking uncomfortable at the moment. Dean frowns at him in confusion, but doesn’t make any comment on it when Sam turns to look at Dean instead.

Dean knows what he’s trying to say, so he nods lightly and quietly turns away from the mother and his brother to check the rest of the room.  “You mentioned Casey had no known enemies. What about at home? Anything unusual you may have noticed? Uh, electricity acting up or lights… flickering? TV on the fritz?”

Finding himself in front of the mirror, Dean’s gaze falls on Sam’s reflection, unable to keep himself from rolling his eyes. In his hands he’s holding his EMF-meter, which is buzzing quite wildly. When the mother answers, Dean moves to the left to check there. Just to make sure, he keeps his hand around the device to keep the sound down a little.

“No, no fritzing,” she says quietly. “No cold spots either.”

Surprised, Dean turns around. He shares a quick look with Sam, and then walks forward again.

“Sorry, out of curiosity, uh… Why do you mention cold spots?” he asks in confusion. The woman holds her arms a little tighter to herself and looks up defensively at Dean.

“I’m sorry, that must sound strange, but… It’s been three days since… And the police have found nothing. I’d have to sell my house to afford a private investigator, so when the Supernaturalists called-.”

“Oh, uh, sorry, the… _Supernaturalists?_ ” Dean squints at the term. Who-ever they might be, this won’t be good.

She nods. “I know to the FBI it’s not exactly orthodox. But these men had answers that no one else had, and I- I owe it to Casey to listen,” she explains. Sam lowers his eyes, Dean has to keep himself from cursing out loud.

“Now, they – they brought up cold spots in relation to…?” Sam tries.

“Signs of the paranormal, I suppose.” She swallows quietly. “They’re coming back by today to take a look.”

“And did these _Supernaturalists_ -,” Dean frowns a little as he pronounces the word, “give you a name?”

He doesn’t like her answer.

“Son of a bitch,” he curses half an hour later when he finds proof in front of him, written on the white mini-van in front of him. They’re still dressed in their suits, having come straight from Mrs. Miles to this diner, just to see if it’s true. Sadly, the van indicates that, yes, it is.

 _Ghostfacers_.

The brothers both put up a very irritated expression and march into the diner, which has quite enough customers that look up at them. With these suits, they stand out alright. Dean lightly grabs one of the waitresses by her arm and holds her back before she can walk away.

“’scuse me, miss, but have you seen two weirdo’s around here? Calling themselves the Ghostfacers?” he says, spitting out the name he never wants to hear again. The girls nods lightly and points them to a booth a little further away where two men are seated in a discussion over their phones. Harry is wearing this weird training suit with an annoying blue color. With a quick thanks they move forward again. They don’t make any introductions or whatever, instead choosing to just slide in with them, to their surprise.

“Ah, the Winchesters,” Harry says out in irritation. “Yay…”

“Says nobody,” Ed adds.

“Ever.”

“All right, shut up and listen. This is how it’s gonna go; you two clowns are gonna get into that mystery machine outside, and you’re gonna leave town or I’m gonna put holes in your knees,” Dean threatens dryly, making the boys snort unbelievingly. Before they can answer, though, another waiter comes by with a full pot of coffee.

“Can I get you guys anything? Something, uh…” The man clearly is confused from the weird combination currently sitting in the booth.

“Uh, we’re ready for the bill,” Dean tells him, and then the waiter is called away by his boss, and he leaves them. Harry slowly takes another sip from his coffee, and then drops the cup loudly.

“First of all, you guys don’t scare us.”

“Not at all,” Ed adds to it.

“Say ‘hola’ to my little pistola,” Harry then continues, lifting up his shirt and revealing a gun in his waistband. Dean can’t help his annoyance getting stronger as he eyes the weapon.

“Am I supposed to be impressed with that treasure trail or the lady gun you got hiding in your, uh, pants there?”

Harry’s mouth falls open a little bit as he thinks of what to say next. “Uh, both,” he mumbles out dumbly. Dean simply stares at him.

“Look, whether you like it or not, we are handling this situation,” Harry tries again, pointing at both his friend and himself. Ed takes another bite of whatever he’s eating, muttering another ‘yup’ in between bites. Dean already lifts up his finger to comment on it, but right then, his phone starts ringing in his inner pocket of his jacket.

“Hold on,” he tells them as he reaches for the device, seeing that Cas is calling him. Without any more thought needed, he picks up, ignoring the questioning look his brother throws him. “Yeah?”

“ _Dean? Where are you? You are not at the bunker and Kevin doesn’t know anything,”_ he hears Castiel say on the other side of the phone.

“Yeah, we’re on a case in Springdale, Washington,” Dean tells him. “Girl killed in her bedroom with creepy guy behind her on the picture.”

“ _Do you need my help?”_

“Not specifically, no, but it’s always appreciated.”

“ _Okay, then I’ll come to you. I’ll find the Impala. Love you.”_

“I know,” Dean responds him, “see you in a sec babe.” The word is out before he can stop himself, and his face colors red when the others snort at his slip – Including Sam, that bastard. He throws them a murdering look and then hangs up.

“Where was I?” He asks the moment the phone is back in his pocket.

“How did _your_ grumpy ass find itself a girlfriend?” Harry counter ask him instead with a wide smirk on his face, causing his friend and even Sam to snort again. Dean literally growls at them, but can’t answer because somebody else beats him to it.

“Actually, I’m genderless,” Castiel says from behind him, and Dean jumps up in surprise. Ed and Harry give out a shriek at the sight of the Angel next to the brothers. Their faces are pale, as if they’ve just seen a ghost. Castiel keeps on standing next to the table awkwardly.

“It’s _you_!” Ed calls out as he points at Cas. Dean frowns a little from the recognition, but Castiel doesn’t show any in return to the boys. “You’re that Angel that invaded our garage a while back!”

Dean turns to his partner with his eyebrows raised. He crosses his arms, but can’t hold back a smile. “Invaded?” he asks him. Castiel just shrugs, but then eventually pulls away a chair from another table to sit down as well. Well, Dean must say he’s impresses that the Angel has caused such a reaction to these losers.

“You’re with an _Angel_?” Harry asks disbelievingly. Both men eye Castiel curiously, but all Castiel seems to care about is Dean since he can’t stop looking at him. Underneath the table, Dean moves his hand to Castiel’s, and he tangles their fingers together for a moment, giving them a light squeeze before letting go again.

“Enough of that, what I want to say is that you don’t get to be here, because you’re going to get in our way.” He points at both men to make his point more clearly.

“Or you’re gonna get somebody killed,” Sam adds to that dryly. Dean nods heavily then, turning his finger towards his brother. With a short nod to the younger hunter, he opens his eyes widely.

“That’s right, so you can either walk out of here, or crawl. Up to you.”

Castiel stays quiet next to him. Harry and Ed snort again.

“Oh, my God, Menudo,” Harry tells them. Castiel flinches upon hearing his father’s name being called out.

“Don’t say that,” he bites at them. Harry holds up his hands in a light surrender.

“Sorry,” he mutters out. “But will you guys relax? We know what we’re doing.”

“Yup,” Ed adds once again to it. Dean shoots him an angry look. So far, the bearded guy has done nothing other than add meaningless ‘yes’ or ‘no’s, and it _really_ starts to get on Dean’s nerves.

“Really? And what about the rest of the Bad News Bears, huh? Where’s the fat one? And the girl? There was a girl, right?” That last part is directed to Sam, who nods. Ed lowers his head a little.

“They- we dropped them. They were dead weight,” he mutters out.

“Well, they’re still alive,” Harry adds quickly.

“They’re, no, they’re totally alive!”

“I see, so it’s just the, uh, the dumpy duo then,” Dean sighs as he speaks the words. “Well, that’s great. So, here’s the deal. A ghost… will land you two dead in five seconds flat.”

“A ghost?” Harry asks, and then suddenly he starts laughing in this strange fake way. He turns to Ed with a strange smirk on his face. “Oh, they think it’s a ghost.”

Ed smirks now to and rolls his eyes. Dean would like very much to strangle them right now, but they’re in public so that wouldn’t be the best idea.

“It’s so not a ghost,” Harry concludes, speaking to Sam in a way that reminds Dean of Garth. When Sam looks at him, Dean sighs, getting close to losing his patience. Sam looks as equally done.

“Okay. We’ll bite,” Sam mutters with another one of his bitchfaces on. “What do you think it is?” The sarcasm drips off of the words.

“Can I do it this time?” Harry asks Ed.

“You got it.”

“Okay! I’ve waited all my life for this,” Harry says, suddenly as enthusiastic as a child with an ice cream. Then he once again turns to Sam. “Amazon me, bitches!” That last part is directed to Dean, who is now beyond annoyed. He lifts up his left hand from Cas’s knee and point his finger to the guy in the jump suit, trying his best to keep his voice calm.

“I will shoot you… _bitches_.”

“Like we were saying, you were just going right? Great.” Sam nods at Cas quickly, and the Angel stands up and puts the chair back from where he got it from. Dean claps Ed on the chest one time and breathes out loudly.

“Good talk,” he says, then standing up as well to follow his brother and Angel back outside. They don’t speak until they arrive at the car again. Cas is already seated in the backseat, Sam shotgun. Dean starts the car, but doesn’t move forward.

“Cas, you think you can go and check the girl’s bedroom, see if you find anything indicating something supernatural?” he asks the Angel, who nods and, after receiving the address, leaves again before Dean can even blink. Then at last he drives forward, leaving the diner with his brother to return back to the motel.

When Castiel returns in the car again, Dean almost crashes the car into another one from the sudden appearance.

“Dammit Cas!” he yells, to which he only receives a glare from the Angel, so Dean lets it drop. He parks the car in an empty spot at the motel, and then all three men step out, making their way to the door of their room.

“Okay, so what’s the diagnosis, doc?” Dean asks Castiel while Sam opens the door.

“I’m not a doctor right now, Dean?” Castiel look so confused again, Dean just wants to pull him in his arms and squeeze him from being so adorable, and if anybody asks about it, he’s going to deny ever having this thought at all. But then, he realizes what Castiel just said, and his face flushes red from what the Angel had just implied. Next to them, Sam snorts and lightly giggles under his breath. Luckily, he doesn’t comment on it.

“You’re kidding,” Dean mutters sarcastically in an attempt not to show how flustered he is. Sam rolls his eyes at him and walks inside. This gives Dean the opportunity to take the Angel in his arms and to press a soft kiss on his lips. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m happy to be here,” Castiel answers genuinely, and he receives another small kiss on his lips before Dean lets go of him completely and pulls them inside. Then he closes the door behind them. Sam is already at his desk, busy taking out his laptop. He keeps his gaze pointedly away from the couple at the door. Dean smirks from that fact.

“So, what did you find?” the younger hunter asks Castiel, clarifying the question Dean had asked earlier. Castiel strangely shrugs.

“Nothing, there was no sign of anything supernatural that I’ve seen,” he explains. Dean pulls him by the arm to let him sit down in front of Sam, who is already busy searching on his computer.

“Are you sure? The guy could just have covered his tracks?” Dean asks as he walks towards the bed to pull out his casual clothing out of his duffel bag. Castiel looks at him angrily.

“Of course I’m sure, Dean,” he bites at him. Sam looks up from his screen for a moment, but quickly continues his research. Dean simply shrugs Cas’s anger off of him and starts undoing his jacket.

“Uh, Dean?” Sam suddenly asks.

“Yeah?”

“Ed and Harry wrote a book.” Sam shoves the laptop a little to the side and pushes the screen back a little. Dean squints when he walks forward.

“What?” he asks in surprise, because what in the Hell could those losers write about?

“Yeah, uh, ‘The Skinny on Thinman’, by America’s foremost Supernaturalists.” Dean looks at the screen to see a black and white portrait of the two losers, with a font that probably comes from a cheesy scary movie from the sixties.

Dean is busy rolling his sleeves up as he reads the backside of the cover, and he doesn’t like what he sees. “What the hell’s a Thinman?” he asks, and Sam is already starting to answer, but Castiel interrupts.

“Nothing, it doesn’t exist,” he says simply, staying on his seat at the other side of the table. Dean frowns a little at him.

“So these douchewads wrote a book about a monster that doesn’t exist? Now there’s a surprise,” he mutters. They better don’t waste their time on this, Dean thinks. It’s always the best to do it the normal way. In the meantime, Sam has opened a picture from the book and studies it over.

“Check that out, though,” he says. “That does kind of look like whatever was behind Casey Miles, right?”

Dean takes a look as well then, taking in the image of a girl running in a forest with in the background indeed a figure that looks like the one on the picture Casey took of herself that last night. Dean simply huffs disbelievingly.

“Or Garth if somebody shaved his face off. Big whoop”. Once again he walks away to put his jacket somewhere else, and on his way, his eyes fall on Castiel, who follows him with his stare as well. Dean winks at him, but the Angel squints a little at him, causing Dean to sigh dramatically. Sam, completely oblivious of what’s happening behind him, just keeps on reading aloud.

“Thinman – an urban legend started on the World Wide Web, lurks in the background of his victims’ lives until he’s ready to kill them.”

“Yeah, because everything started on the internet is true,” Dean mutters mockingly. “Like, uh, oh, the shark attacking a helicopter – they write a book on that one, too?”

Sam scowls at him, and Dean knows he’s acting childish, but he just can’t help it. Everything about those Ghostlosers makes him angry and brings him all too quickly into a bad mood.

“Dude, real or not, thousands of people have posted to the site. It’s like Thinman is the new Bigfoot or something!”

“That might be true, but the Thinman isn’t an existing monster,” Castiel suddenly says from where he’s seated. “Believe me, Sam, in all my years of existence, I have never come across anything like that.”

“Well, then, what do you think it is?” Sam asks him while pointing at the screen of his computer, but Castiel stays quiet.

“It’s just a ghost with a brand name,” Dean says from next to the bed, where he’s busy changing into his everyday clothing. Still, Castiel shakes his head to Dean’s guess.

“No ghost, I checked the place out thoroughly. I don’t think it’s anything supernatural.”

“But the EMF hit high in her room?” Dean tries.

“Right, but the house was next door to power lines, which can affect the read,” Sam counters. Now Dean, completely changed into his everyday clothing, sits down on his bed and leans forward a little bit while he thinks.

“I’ll look around over the town, just stay here and stay out of trouble,” Castiel says before disappearing again. Dean watches the place where the Angel had just been sitting. Just empty air on a chair at the table. A sigh escapes from his lips.

“Stay out of trouble? Where’d he get that one from?”

Sam just shrugs, but otherwise ignores him. In annoyance, Dean starts tapping his foot loudly to the floor, unsure of what to do while Cas is doing his thing. He should be thinking of more ideas since the day is almost over.

Gosh, he doesn’t even understand why he pays so much attention to this anniversary! It’s not like they ever cared about things like this before, right? Why should this one day be more special than others? Dean bites his lip while his mind is at war with itself.

What would Cas like?

“Dammit, Dean, just call that Inias-guy if you can’t figure it out!” Sam calls out as if he’s read his mind, and Dean’s eyes grow wide in surprise. Still, he nods and clasps his hands together, completely forgetting that his younger brother is still in the room.

“Uh- Hi eh-,”

“Inias.”

“Inias,” Dean repeats hesitantly. “This is Dean Winchester, I think you probably know me by now, righteous man and all that.”

“Just get to the point,” Sam mutters at him. Dean shoots him an angry look.

“Okay, so eh, I kind of really need your help about something. It’s about Castiel. If you’re free and you want to help, I would really appreciate it.”

When he opens his eyes again there’s no sign of Inias in the room. Somehow, though, Dean expected it, but still he can’t help the disappointment he feels. He rolls his sleeves up again and stands up to put his suit away. Sam is still busy researching on any possible deaths in the town, and starting a conversation with him would only disturb him.

So he waves shortly at his brother and gets outside of the motel, walking straight into the figure of a young, brown-haired woman.

“Whoa! Sorry Miss! I did not expect anybody to be here,” Dean tells her in apology. He looks up to see her face, and finds she has bright blue eyes. The way she keeps her head reminds him of Castiel, and for a moment he’s almost afraid to ask what he thinks is happening here. “Inias?”

“Inias was busy with the elections, but he asked if I could come down instead. My name is Hannah,” she says and, as if she’s completely out of her comfort zone, she holds up her hand in a greeting. Dean accepts the shake with hesitation.

“Oh, eh, I’m not sure if you can help. I wasn’t even sure if Inias could help, to be honest.” Dean looks down and pulls his hand out of her grip. He finds himself scratching behind his ear in nervousness.

“What is your issue? I will try my very best to help you with whatever you need,” Hannah assures him. Dean looks behind him for a moment, finding that the door to the motel is still open and that Sam is eyeing them curiously. Dean waves him off and shuts the door, nodding towards the car. Hannah nods hard and follows Dean, and when the hunter leans against the door, Hannah just stands next to him awkwardly.

“So, in case you didn’t know, tomorrow will be the day where Cas and I are… _together_ for six months.” The words feel so strange coming out of his mouth. He almost doesn’t recognize himself anymore. If only Sam had never brought it up, then he wouldn’t feel so guilty if he hadn’t done anything.

Hannah shows nothing in response, so Dean just continues. “My brother made it clear that I should do something for Cas to celebrate it, but to be honest, I’m not really sure what Castiel would like. So I thought, maybe Inias would know?”

Hannah’s eyes wander off for a moment, as if she’s thinking, and as the seconds tick by, Dean finds himself regretting this more and more. He should just have gone with a movie night or something, despite Cas needing to ruin every plot in the story.

“For what I know from the relationship you and Castiel have, I assume I’m correct when I say you both have been engaged in sexual activities?”

No words can explain the embarrassment Dean suddenly feels. His cheeks are flaming red, his breath is stuck in his throat, and it’s like his mind has gone blank.

“Eh, yeah,” he breathes out, pointedly looking away from him. Still, Hannah doesn’t seem flustered about anything, and she just continues.

“From what Castiel has told me, it has always been you who has done the penetration to Castiel, correct?”

Jesus, these questions are getting worse by the second! And what? Cas has talked about their sex-life to his brothers and sisters upstairs? You can’t just tell that stuff to your siblings! They really need to talk about this when Cas gets back. With barely opening his mouth, Dean gets out a rough ‘yeah’, and he rests his hands in the pockets of his pants.

“Castiel would never say this to you because he’s completely happy with how things are going between you two right now, but from what he’s told me, he wants to, one day, try it the other way around, if you understand what I mean?”

How can somebody look so innocent while talking about this?

“So you mean that I should give Castiel sex for our anniversary?” he calls out dryly with one eyebrows raised. Hannah doesn’t catch his sarcasm and nods hard again.

“Of course Castiel would never tell you this because he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Yeah, she should follow that advice.

“Uh-huh,” is all Dean says when he finds he’s unable to speak out anything else. It’s then that Hannah tilts her head to the left and squints her eyes in that way Castiel has always done. She studies Dean for a moment, which, no, isn’t okay.

“I made you uncomfortable,” she states. Dean lifts his eyebrows again, giving her an expression that means ‘ya think?’, and the Angel takes a step back with her head bowed down. “Apologies, that wasn’t my intention. Castiel does not want anything from you, he’s extremely happy with what he’s got. There are two things you can still offer him, one of which I just named, and the other you can guess.”

Yes, Dean can guess. Castiel wants to hear the words from him. The three words that have brought on his panic attack a few weeks ago. Cas also knows that Dean isn’t ready for that just yet, but, he figures, the other thing can be something he can do, right? They haven’t really talked about doing it before because up until now, Cas has always completely offered himself to Dean. And even the times where Cas took control, their roles were still the same. But if that’s what Castiel wants, to take complete control over it with Dean’s full surrender, then he thinks he can give it to him.

“Uh, okay I’ll think about it. Thanks Hannah,” Dean tells her, offering her a fake smile that hopefully looks convincing enough. She nods lightly at him one time, and then she flies off again, leaving Dean alone outside to the side of his car. His head turns towards the motel, his mind focusses on the content of his duffel bag, trying to remember what is inside. If he would check it out now, with Sam in the room, his younger brother would know exactly what is going to happen.

Ah, well, he can never have too much, right? Without any second thought he jumps into the car, driving off to the nearest store so he can put up some stock.

The thought of what he’s going to give Cas already makes him feel nervous, and he can’t say if it’s a positive kind of nervous, or the negative kind.

 

* * *

 

 

_That evening  
Springdale, Washington_

 

As it turns out, there haven’t been any deaths in Springdale that can really be connected with Casey Miles’ murder. The brothers decided to have a chat with the deputy in charge of the case, but so far, all they’ve learned is that the Ghostdouches were there too and talked some crazy-talk in the guy’s head.

As it turns out, somebody posted Casey’s picture two hours after she died, and all Dean can think of is that somebody took her phone and did it then. Of course, the deputy claims that it’s something ‘supernatural’ and starts explaining about the book Dean already hates at the moment.

So instead they’re back at the motel. Both brothers look at the bed next to Sam’s upon arriving. Normally, they don’t have a problem sharing a room. It’s just sleep. They doze off, they wake up in the morning, and otherwise the room is just useful for research. But Dean knows that, with Cas around, they’re both considering the same thing.

Eventually, Sam gives up and sighs loudly. He offers the key to Dean. “Just shove those two beds together, I’ll get another room,” he tells him. He picks up his wallet from the table and walks out of the room. Dean’s mouth, having fallen open for a moment, drops back shut as quickly as he realizes it. He moves to the side of the bed and starts pushing the one against the other. It’s not like’s he’s planning on doing anything with Cas tonight, heck, he’s already too nervous for tomorrow! It feels like this is such a stupid thing to just ‘plan’ like that, but Dean figures that they would end in bed together anyway, so why wouldn’t he try?

He should just stop over-thinking this, because this is getting ridiculous!

“Hello Dean,” Cas suddenly calls out from behind him. Dean’s heart skips a beat for a moment, and he drops down on the bed, letting out the breath he was holding in.

“Dammit Cas, don’t _do_ that!” Dean mutters against the sheets, but then he stands up again, turning towards the Angel who looks at Dean worriedly. A smirk appears on his face upon seeing him, and without thinking he walks forward to pull off the coat. “C’mon, none of those, alright?”

“Okay, Dean,” Castiel tells him obediently, but he then smiles too. Dean moves their foreheads against each other and for a moment their lips touch, but not for long. They’re both fine with just standing like this; close together, in a tight embrace.

“So what did you find?” Dean asks without letting go. His the palm of his hands are resting lazily on the Angel’s hips, and with his thumbs he’s making small circles.

“I spoke to the two men from earlier, they were checking out the girl’s room, but once again I didn’t find anything. Went all over town as well, visited every place three times, but still I saw nothing.”

Dean presses his lips to Castiel’s cheek into a small kiss, and then he pulls back. His hand finds Cas’s, and he pulls both of them down to the bed. Dean’s tired and he could use some good dream-time with his Angel. Hastily, he undresses until he’s only wearing his boxer shorts. He throws his other clothing to the other side of the room before getting underneath the covers as fast as he can. Castiel follows his example, being evenly undressed as Dean. He rests his head against the hunter’s chest and Dean’s hand travels to the Angel’s hair.

And then, as usual, Castiel tells him he loves him. To which Dean answers that he knows.

 

* * *

 

 

_The next morning at the Diner  
Springdale, Washington_

 

“Agents, thanks for coming,” Deputy Norwood says when the three walk into the diner. The three of them are a little bit in a bad mood. They’re nothing closer to finishing the case, there’s a new victim, and surprise surprise, the Ghostlosers are present!

“What are these two crapshoots doing here?” Dean asks while nodding at the two men. He doesn’t even bother to greet the deputy, who has this annoying little smile on his face that Dean can’t place.

“I figured it wouldn’t hurt to go a little “medium”, you know?”

Dean stares the guy down, and he enjoys every moment that the deputy suffers from being uncomfortable. The man looks down and shifts a little bit from where he’s standing.

“Uh…” he then finally says, waving away his previous comment to get to the point. “Two counties over, folks were combing the place for a poor little dead boy back in August. The cops let a psychic do her thing. Shish, bang, boom – found a body a day later.”

Okay, so he _doesn’t_ get to the point. Dean can’t help himself from rolling his eyes, and when he nods, it’s with great difficulty. Seriously, he has better ways to spend his day.

“Uh-huh, excuse me,” Dean mutters at him, leaving the official business over to Sam who gets right to it. Dean and Castiel both walk over to the two men, standing weirdly on the counter, trying to get the body on film. Without really thinking about it, Dean slaps Harry on his ass, causing the man to jump up in surprise. Cas looks at him angrily, but Dean just shrugs.

“I thought I told you to beat it?” he states to the two men.

“Oh, well, what are you gonna do? You gonna _out_ me, ‘agent’?”

At that, all four of them turn towards the deputy who is checking over the security footage with Sam. A small moment is enough for Dean to realize he needs to tone it down. Better try a new approach.

“Okay, look, playing paparazzi at a crime scene – who does that help but yourselves?”

“The bloggers, Dean,” Harry pokes Dean softly on the chest to get his attention. Dean doesn’t like it. At all. And neither does Cas, apparently, because he grabs a hold of Harry’s arm and pushes it away from the hunter. Then, in his usual way, he just stands there as if nothing’s happened. Dean’s eyes find the ceiling while Harry continues talking, despite his interruption. “The believers, everyone who needs just a little proof to know that Thinman is out there.”

“So you are building up to those lies, making them believe that there’s actually anything like a Thinman?” Castiel’s voice is strong but sounds angry as well, and it obviously startles Ed and Harry.

“They’re not lies,” Harry defends himself. Ed turns to the camera Harry is holding and makes some weird movements with his hands.

“Thinman is part man, part tree,” he says out in a strange but dramatic voice. Then Harry joins in, pointing the camera to himself.

“Some people believe that he emerged from the nightmare of an autistic boy.”

Castiel seems to lose his patience now, though. He throws his arms up in exasperation, keeps his eyes to the sky, and barely hides his groan. Dean likes these human-traits his Angel develops. Still, before Castiel can say anything further, the deputy rejoins them again.

“Fellas, you want to see this,” he tells them. The four follow the deputy to where Sam is standing and look closely at the screen when the video gets replayed. There’s a fragment of a few milliseconds where they can see movement in the parking lot; a white blur that could easily be everyone. Then the image moves to the camera inside the diner, and they can see the figure that claims to be ‘Thinman’ standing behind the victim.

Ed and Harry let out a surprised gasp when the guy actually gets stabbed, as if they’re having a little nerd-moment.

“All right, so, how did he jump from the parking lot to the diner? The doors were locked!” It just doesn’t make sense to him. If it’s not a ghost, nor anything else from the paranormal like Cas claims, how the hell did that even happen?

“He didn’t,” Castiel says simply. He replays the video again for a few times, but with each time it looks like he’s focusing more on the image. The others just wait patiently while he searches for something that probably isn’t there. Still, after another minute, he pauses the screen.

“It’s not the same man,” the Angel then explains. He makes sure the fragment gets paused right at the moment the white blur passes the camera, but when all Dean can see is a smudge, somehow Cas can actually find something they can work with. “Whoever is doing these murders, he’s not alone.”

“Okay then, how did you catch from one little blur that there are two of them now?” Harry asks mockingly with a smug expression all over his face, and Ed follows him in it. The deputy now seems a little suspicious about it all.

“He’s our specialist, it’s what he does,” Dean says while pressing a hand on Castiel’s chest to push him back along. “We’re going to check the place around now.” And with that, the three leave the others with the computer. But when Dean looks back up to them, the Ghostfaces appear to be gone as well. Good riddance, hopefully they got scared off.

Castiel keeps on warning them that they won’t find anything, and after searching for almost two hours the brothers seem to agree with the Angel. It’s about lunchtime by now, which Dean’s stomach makes public knowledge at the right time. The three leave the diner after a small wave at the deputy, they get out.

After lunch they spend a few more hours researching. Castiel continues to look around the town in search for the murderers that could probably only be human, by the way. Dean and Sam return to the motel room. Since it’s October, the darkness falls far more quickly, and when it’s about six in the evening Dean realizes that this day is pretty much ruined for anything else. They’re seated in Sam’s one-person room with take-out dinner and the laptop on the table.

“You know, when I hear ‘teleport’ I can’t help but think ‘Crossroads Demon’,” Sam suddenly says when he finishes chewing the last bit of his dinner. They’ve been busy leaving suggestions all the time – Sam even dared to try the excuse of Cas’s monster-radar being broken. Dean hadn’t been happy about that one.

“Hmm, Demon that likes to stab and watch YouTube? Why not?” Dean mumbles to himself. “Besides, doors of Hell are sealed. No demon’s getting out.”

And like all the previous times, they end up with _nothing_ to go on with.

“Speaking of YouTube; the video of Trey getting knifed is already online.” Sam’s fingers scroll over the mouse pad and he opens up an internet-page, starting up the website and playing the video they’re talking about. “It has, like, two thousand views! It’s like somebody wants people to see Thinman in action!”

Dean nods. “It’s ‘cause people will watch. ‘cause people are sick.” And he knows he’s true. 

“And when did “viral” go from baby chimp falling out of a tree to killer ‘Candid Camera’?” Sam just looks as if humanity has betrayed him with this act. The man is practically scowling at the YouTube-page the video has been posted on, and if they had their own profile, Dean’s sure his nerd-brother would have commented on it.

“You know what video would have gone viral, if we still had it? When you were five and you got dressed up as Batman and you jumped off the shed ‘cause you thought you could fly.” A smile appears on Dean’s face for the first time today as he relaxes into the memory. He was nine back then, and Sam had been so little.

“After you jumped first,” Sam says in his defense, but he’s smiling as well in between bites.

“Hey, I was nine, and I was dressed up like Superman, okay? Everybody knows that Batman can’t fly!”

“Well, I didn’t know that! I broke my arm.”

Now Dean can’t hold back a laugh, because he can remember how his baby brother, wearing a black blanket and crying out ‘Lookat me Dean! See me fly!’ and then jumping.

“I know you did,” Dean says in between laughs. He shakes his head and tries to hold back some tears from the laughter. “Man, I drove you to the E.R. on my handlebars.” He stops talking as the images come back into his head. Of course, their dad had been angry when they came back home and Sam had his arm in a cast. But back then, that had been the closest thing to a childhood they’d ever had. Right now, he wants to hold on to that.

“Hmm, good times,” Dean mutters before pressing the bottle of beer against his lips. Sam nods, but his eyes indicate that he’s somewhere far away with his mind.

“I’m sorry you didn’t have your day with Cas,” comes out of his mouth. Dean stops drinking, but doesn’t put down the bottle. He knows that his brother feels some guilt about today; if he hadn’t come up with the case, if he hadn’t insisted on Dean joining, he would have had a whole free day with Castiel, probably doing stuff couples do.

But Dean can’t blame Sam for this, because he would have joined anyway. It’s who he is; a _hunter_. He can’t just turn his back on a case because of personal things. So he reaches out his hand to his brother’s shoulder and squeezes it a little bit. He’s about to say something, but gets interrupted by a loud knock on the door. Both brothers look up in surprise. Dean’s the one to get up. The moment he’s almost at the door, though, it flies open, and Ed practically falls inside with Castiel calmly following him. The Angel looks pissed off.

“Well, come on in,” Dean says a little dumbfounded, but when he tries to get something out of Cas, he only gets an ice cold stare directed to the man trying to stand back up.

“I believe this _man_ has something to say,” Castiel hisses lowly. Ed holds up his hands above his head. He’s still hunched forward, making his way to an empty chair at the table, and only drops his arms when he’s seated down.

“Okay I got to tell you guys something important, and then the case is yours.”

Both Dean and Sam turn to look at Cas, but the look isn’t returned. He seems very angry. This must be something important indeed. With his arms crossed he comes to stand in front of where Ed is sitting. Castiel stands right next to him, hands balled into fists.

“All right, either you bleed Ghostfacers red or you don’t. If Spruce wanted to start a startup and Maggie’s heart was in the roller derby, who am I to stop them? But Harry? I couldn’t let him give in to his girl. I mean, she – she called the Ghostfacers stupid. Stupid (Let’s say that Dean rolls his eyes here again.) Can you – can you believe that? You know, I don’t care how much money her daddy’s hedge fund has. I just couldn’t watch Harry become a corporate stooge.”

This story is going on for too long, and both Dean and Castiel lose their patience.  “Okay, this all sounds like sad times at Bitchmont high. What does this have to do with the case?”

“Harry was gonna leave, so I needed to give him a reason to stay.”

Both brothers raise his eyebrows in question, waiting for Ed to continue. The man doesn’t.

“He made up Thinmann,” Castiel says for him with his voice even lower. Ed literally shivers at hearing him talk, but then again who wouldn’t? An angry Angel of the Lord is a dangerous Angel of the Lord.

“So you’re saying that this crap _is_ actually crap?”

“One old photo of a butler, a lot of Photoshop later, and I posted on one of those horror forums under ‘anonymous’.” Ed looks like he’s shivering.

”And it blew up,” Sam adds to the story. Ed nods wildly.

“Yeah, I only faked one case for us, and then we’re packing up to go home when somebody posted a sighting of Thinman, so… we went after it and that’s how the Thinman became a crowdsourced legend.”

Somehow, this explains a lot. At least Dean is proven right that the Thinman is complete bullcrap, but that means that they’re stuck with an actual killer. Sam too looks like he’s made the connection.

“Look, we were at the front of it. It felt like something. It- it was so awesome to have a following, and Harry – he was just – he was so into it.”

“Ed, you have to tell him,” Sam says to the guy sitting in a chair. Ed flinches then, and he keeps his head down.

“We don’t have time for this. I’ll go to his friend; you come find us as fast as you can.” Castiel’s fingers travel over the top of Dean’s hand for a moment before he flies off. The brothers rush to the door, and Ed follows them.

After a lot of directions, Dean finally parks the Impala to the parking of the Grocery store where Ed left Harry, right on time to see the latter come out with the Angel, who is carrying something that looks like a body.

Scratch that, two bodies.

Castiel drops them down on the floor without any gentleness and reaches for the wound on Harry’s stomach. He hovers his hand right above of it, and when he pulls back, the guy’s skin is as healthy as it could be.

“Cas! What happened?” Dean nods to the two unconscious men lying on the ground, both of them wearing a mask that matches Thinman’s face.

“One of them got to Harry, I stopped him, read his mind, found the other one, and then I knocked them out. What should we do with them?” Castiel kneels down to pulls their masks off their faces, revealing two familiar faces.

“Deputy Norwood? And that’s the waiter!” Sam points at the two unconscious men. Cas looks up at him, unsure of what to do next.

“Take them to the station, get them to confess, and let the police handle the rest. This isn’t our thing,” Dean says with his hands raised in the air. A little further away, Ed and Harry are busy having a loud discussion. Dean knows what that’s about.

“Let’s just go back to the motel. These have been two days wasted,” Dean mutters. Sam nods and gets back into the car. Dean waves shortly at Harry and Ed, hoping silently that this is the last time he’ll ever see them again. In his mind, he makes a silent prayer to let Cas know they’re going back to their rooms.

When they’re there at last, it’s already eight in the evening. Sam throws himself down on the bed the moment he walks in. Dean just keeps on standing in the door-opening. It’s too late now to start planning anything to do with Cas. The day is almost over and so far all they’ve done today is share a quick kiss in the morning and a few touches over the day.

Dean closes the door after making sure that Sam is safely tucked in his bed – hey, he’s still a big brother, taking care of his sibling is only normal. The air is cold and a breeze passes over him, which makes him shiver.

 _Better get back to my room_ , Dean thinks. It’s a few doors further away from Sam’s, so he quickens his steps. He has trouble with putting the key into the keyhole, missing the target a few times before he can actually unlock his room. He longs for the warmth of his sheets. Maybe he could take a hot shower to relax his muscles a little bit?

When he walks inside, he notices something weird.

The room is filled with candles. _Burning_ candles.

“What the-?” Dean asks to himself. He takes a few steps forward, finding that the candles are put around the bed. The sheets look fresh, and on the nightstand there’s a bottle of what looks like wine, along with two glasses.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel says from behind him. Dean turns around abruptly, only to find Castiel standing there, wearing only his suit pants and the white shirt. His coat and jacket are on the chair next to the table, and so are his shoes.

“Cas?” Dean asks disbelievingly. The Angel walks forward with his arms outstretched. When he reaches Dean, he starts to peel the layers of clothing off of Dean, until he too is only wearing a shirt. Then a hand is pressed against his cheek, and big blue eyes look right into Dean’s green one.

“It is human customary to celebrate a six months anniversary,” the Angel tells him in all seriousness. Dean lifts one eyebrow up at him but can’t hold back a wide smile.

Who knew Cas can be romantic?

“I love you, Dean,” Castiel whispers against his lips right before the two start kissing at last. For Dean, the kiss never has to stop; he wants more, _needs_ more. He wraps his arms fully around Castiel, already working on getting him into the bed, until he remembers Hannah’s advice from the last day.

So instead, Dean lets go of him completely and drops down on the bed to lie down on his back. Castiel eyes him curiously when Dean holds his hands together above his head, showing his complete surrender.

It looks like Castiel catches on rather quickly. He kneels down on the bed as well, neither of them even thinking about the bottle of wine sitting in a bucket filled with ice on the night stand. Instead, the Angel keeps busy with kissing Dean passionately. His hands travel up and down over his waist, and it actually kind of tickles Dean. The hunter arches off the bed with a quiet yelp a few times whenever Castiel gets to some place sensitive.

“You are so beautiful, Dean Winchester,” Castiel whispers against his belly while his fingers undo the button of Dean’s jeans, unzipping it as well afterwards. His chin passes over his skin while he pulls the piece of clothing down. Without moving his arms, Dean looks down to watch Castiel. His cheeks are colored red from Castiel’s sudden need to praise him.

“Please, Cas,” Dean breathes out, but he’s not sure what he’s begging for; for Cas to stop complimenting him? Or for him to give him more, to take what he wants to take because Dean is ready to give it to him. His heart is beating wildly inside his chest from nervousness. He’s actually going to do it; he’s going to let go of all control and trust Castiel completely.

A few times Dean breathes in and out deeply to calm himself down, but when the Angel starts kissing him on the insides of his thighs, he knows it’s a lost cause. His body flinches with every sudden touch, slowly getting to the stage of overstimulation from the intensity of Castiel’s kisses.

“Ah, Cas,” Dean breathes out when the Angel’s fingers hook over the waistband of Dean’s underwear. Castiel stops then, instead reaching for Dean’s shirt instead to take it off first. He opens button after button, doing it with such an agonizing slowness. Dean calls out his name a few more times in a whisper. When he opens his eyes after having them closed for about a minute, he finds Castiel completely undressed in front of him, now busy trying to take off Dean’s last piece of clothing at last. Dean lets out a long breath in another attempt to calm his nerves. Cas is not going to hurt him; he would never do that.

“Ah, I bought some new-,” Dean’s sentence gets cut short when Castiel’s fingers ghost over his length. “A whole new tube, u-underneath the bed.

Castiel pushes himself off of Dean to lean more to the left, not taking his body off the bed when he reaches underneath. His face looks focused, but it relaxed when he finds what he’s been looking for. Dean nestles himself a little better on the mattress, moving some pillows back and forth until he’s found a position he feels comfortable with. He digs through his memories of the first time he’s done this to Cas, so he puts one pillow underneath his lower back to lift up his hips a little bit.

When he’s finally satisfied Cas is just finishing up with putting some lube all over his fingers. He passes a quick nod to the Angel, giving him the cue that he can start. Cas nods as well and starts leaning forward. The closer he gets, the more anxious Dean starts to feel. He can feel his wild heartbeat all over his body and his breath is speeding up.

“Relax, my love,” Castiel tells him. He passes his other hand over Dean’s cheek to comfort him, and Dean leans into the touch, needing more of it. A soft gasp escapes his lips. He can do this. Its not a big deal, Cas has done it for him countless times. What’s there to fear so much? His eyes fly open when Castiel’s fingers touch down.

Suddenly, he’s not in the bed anymore. He’s in Hell, surrounded by smoke and hot air. A figure existing out of black smoke hovers all over him. He’s tied up, naked, like he’s always been, but this time the ropes seem to be holding to him tighter. With every move he makes something seems to cut into him. The figure hovering above him takes on a corporeal form, taking the appearance of some sort of doctor, scrubs covered with dark blood. Dean knows it’s his blood from his previous torture session.

“My pretty little Dean,” the Demon, Alastair, whispers inside his ear, and Dean knows what’s coming next. He shouts it out when something big is once again pushed into him, completely dry, sending him strong waves of pain all over his body. He starts to struggle now, to stop the Demon from defiling his body like this again and again, time after time, but Alastair’s other hand grabs both of Dean’s arms and pushes him back.

“Now now, Dean, you know you like it.”

Dean shouts one more time, unable to stop the tears from falling out of his eyes. It hurts, so much, and it’s going to hurt even more, and then, when Alastair is satisfied, he’s going to carve Dean up again, cut off piece by piece of Dean’s body, and when he’s all gone, he’ll be there again, back in one piece, and Alastair would repeat everything once more.

“Dean,” Alastair calls out to him when he keeps on struggling. The grip on his arms get stronger despite Dean’s fighting. Then the Demon calls out to him again, this time more urgently. “Dean!”

Slowly, the image of Alastair seems to blur away, revealing Cas instead holding his arms above his head. The Angel looks horrified, but the thing that gets Dean the most are the scratch marks on his face. They’re bleeding lightly.

Dean starts to struggle again, trying to get free from Cas’s hold. “LET ME GO!” He shouts at him. He starts kicking with his legs as well, and it looks like he can’t breathe anymore. He just needs to get out of here, to be alone, to settle his thoughts.

“Dean,” Cas tries again, but the moment he loosens the grip on Dean’s wrists, the hunter is gone. He jumps off of the bed, picks up his clothes from the ground, and locks himself up in the bathroom. It’s the only place he can be alone for now.

He rests his back against the door and slides down to the floor. His heart is going crazy; its thumping the only thing Dean can hear at the moment. He pulls his knees up and wraps his arms around them, making a cocoon in an attempt to protect himself.

Alastair is gone; he’s dead. Sammy’s made sure of that. There are no more Demon’s, no more ways to Hell as far as Dean knows. There’s no way he needs to get through all that again.

Still, that thought doesn’t calm him down. When Castiel starts knocking at the door, begging him to let him in, Dean squeezes his eyes shut and pushes the sound out. He’s safe, no longer in danger. Alastair is dead, Hell is closed. He keeps on repeating those thoughts countless times inside his mind, but they don’t settle his nerves. His fingers pinch hard in his skin to keep himself into reality and away from that burning memory.

He knows that Cas could just zap himself inside the bathroom, but he’s glad the Angel doesn’t. He’s not surprised to hear his brother storm in to the room. He probably heard the commotion happening here. It would be a miracle if anybody didn’t.

He can hear muffled sounds, Cas and Sam talking to each other, but he doesn’t try to understand them. He needs a shower; needs to wash this dirty feeling off of him. With shaking legs, he moves forward, pushes aside the shower curtain, and starts up the water. Before even waiting for it to get warm he jumps underneath it.

The water does little to get rid of these images, but his heartrate and breathing simultaneously go down again to a healthy level the longer he stands underneath the stream. It’s when his legs can’t keep him up anymore that he drops down to the floor. He doesn’t move, but lets the drops fall all over him.

“Dean?” suddenly comes from outside of the shower. They must have tried to open the door – Dean never locked it. It’s Sam who’s talking to him.

“Heya, Sammy,” Dean rasps out with a throaty voice. His throat hurts from all the screaming, and his muscles are already sore from all the fighting against the memories. “Just-just give me a few minutes, okay?”

Sam doesn’t press on, but makes a noise of agreement before walking out of the bathroom. He closes the door behind him, leaving Dean alone again.

Now, calmed down enough, Dean starts to rub soap all over his body. He doesn’t miss any spot, and when he’s done his skin is red. At last he walks out, cutting off the water and toweling himself dry. He ignores his reflection in the mirror but gets to dressing instead.

He looks at the door, knowing very well that Sam and Cas are sitting there, waiting for him, for an explanation of what just happened. Dean knows he can’t give it to them, because no matter how hard they might try, there ain’t no cure for this except erasing his memories, and Dean doesn’t want anybody to mess with his head like that.

He turns to hang up his towel again after he’s fully dressed, and catches the window right next to it. The glass is blurred so nobody could look in, but that’s not why Dean has so much attention for it. Trying not to make any noise, he moves to open the lock, lifting up the lower window. It’s barely big enough for Dean to pass through it, but he manages, landing on his side with a grunt when he’s completely out. Without thinking any further, he starts running to the car – keys still in the pocket of his jacket. He’s sure they could hear him when he leaves – and Cas would just zap himself inside the car, so he picks up his knife underneath his seat and makes a cut on the top of his lower arm to get to some blood.

His suspicions are true, the moment he’s driving forward, Cas is already sitting in the passenger’s seat. He looks angry and hurt, but Dean doesn’t give him time to talk. Just when Castiel notices the symbol Dean’s drawn on the window, Dean presses his palm to it, sending Cas away to God knows where.

After that, he just drives on, unsure of where he’s going.

Man, Cas is going to be pissed.

 

* * *

 

 

_Meanwhile, in Heaven_

When he opens his eyes, Castiel closes them just as quickly from the complete disorientation. He knows where he is; he’s in Heaven. But _where_ in Heaven has he landed to this time? It’s going to take about two hours for his wings to fully function again, and until then, he’s stuck here.

He sits up the moment he hears some voices around him. Other Angels? With one quick look around himself, he remembers the place he’s currently finding himself. But why is he here?

When he sees the white dress of Azrael appearing before him, he just wishes he were anywhere else. The Angel looks down at him with the faint hint of surprise over her borrowed face, but otherwise she still has the expression of a rock.

“Castiel, what a pleasant surprise,” Azrael tells him. She stiffly offers him a hand to pull himself back up, and he takes it thankfully. Her skin is so soft the moment he touches her, and Castiel wonders what her vessel must have been before she agreed to give herself over to the Angel currently possessing her.

 “Apologies for my sudden intrusion,” Castiel offers the Angel, but Azrael makes a small gesture with her hand to dismiss the apology. She points to a few chairs in the middle of the garden and then goes to sit down. Castiel follows her hesitantly.

“Now, somebody banished you to Heaven, it seems?” she asks, nodding towards Castiel’s messy and sore wings. Castiel lifts one wing up forward and starts grooming his wings in a hope to speed things up. Time moves slower in Heaven than it does on Earth, and Castiel can already hear Sam praying repeatedly to him.

“Sadly, so.” Castiel finds himself scowling at the realization that Dean, the man he loves the most, could betray him like this. His heart aches from it, and right now he just wants to be angry at him, to give him a piece of his mind.

But then he remembers how scared Dean had looked, how he’d completely lost control the moment Castiel tried to prepare him. The night was supposed to be beautiful, a nice celebration of staying together for six months. Instead it turned into a nightmare for Dean, and Castiel ended up banished to Heaven with the Angel he feels most uncomfortable with.

Azrael can be _really_ intimidating.

“So I heard you’re helping Kokabiel with the elections?” Azrael makes a cup of tea appear on the small table next to her, and though she doesn’t need it, she still takes a long sip of it. Castiel watches her curiously. _That’s_ pretty human behavior in his opinion. But then again, Azrael has never claimed she’s against the humans, just against human-Angel reproduction.

“Actually, no,” Castiel tells her. “I told him I would help whenever is necessary, but mostly I’m down on Earth-.”

“-With Dean Winchester, yes, so I’ve heard.” Azrael drops the cup back down again. She puts her hands on her legs and stands there stiffly, as if she’s sitting on a throne. Castiel can again see that faint purple glowing from her wings, catching up on her white dress. “Ah, well, I must be off. I got some business to take care off. You can show yourself out when you’re ready.” With that, Azrael stands up. She straightens out her white dress again, and walks forward. Her white wings are ready for flight. With a monotone goodbye, she takes off, leaving Castiel behind in the Heaven of this Greek woman currently taking care of her purple flowers.

 

* * *

 

 

_The side of the highway, Washington  
Robetta’s bar._

Sam Winchester parks his stolen car into an empty spot in front of the small bar. It’s raining, it’s cold, and Sam’s good mood is very far away, somewhere unable for him to reach.

He’s been looking all night, asking around for sightings of the Impala, until somebody sent him in this direction. He sees a small little bar that reminds him a little bit of the Roadhouse. On the highway, multiple cars are passing by and so far that’s the only sound to be heard.

Sam catches a glimpse of the Impala in the corner of his eye; enough proof that Dean has been here, and hasn’t gotten the chance to leave. Swallowing hard once, he starts to walk forward towards the door.

At the bar, there’s a girl looking a little bit annoyed busy cleaning up the glasses. She picks up a glass, dries them off, and slams them a little harder than necessary back down on the shelve behind her. Sam wishes himself some courage before he lets out a long breath and walks forward.

“Excuse me, miss, I’m looking for my brother? His car is outside so he might be here?” he asks, already working up to take his cellphone out of his pockets. He still has that picture of Dean and Cas, never really gotten to the point to remove it because his brother looked so happy in it. The girl only takes one short look at the image before huffing hard.

“So the other man must be Cas?” she asks hard, dropping down another glass. Sam flinches from the sound it makes. “Yeah, he’s here, think he went to sleep in his car; caused real trouble here.” At that, she gestures around the room, and for the first time, Sam notices two broken tables with a few chairs on the floor. “Told him to beat it before I called the cops. Guy was already deep asleep in his car when I locked up the place.”

“Okay, thank you miss,” Sam says. He takes his wallet out of his pocket and pulls out a few dollar-bills. “It probably won’t cover everything, sorry for that.”

Then he nods lightly at her one more time, making a turn to get back outside. He has lost count how many time he’s prayed to Cas, but once more couldn’t hurt.

“Hey Cas, I found Dean. Just come down whenever you can, we’ll be on our way to the bunker.”

When he arrives at the car he shows no mercy, slamming his hand hard on the roof of the car a few times until Dean startles awake. The hunter slams his head against the window when he sits up. Even through the window Sam can see that he looks like crap. He tries the door – unlocked – and gets into the driver’s seat.

“Goodmorning, Dean,” he says dryly, starting the car when he finds that the key is still in the ignition. Dean is absolutely everything but careful when he’s drunk, apparently. Dean doesn’t answer, but lies back down. He turns around so his back is pointed to Sam, and he covers himself up again with the blanket they keep in the trunk. There’s not much answer Sam is going to get, so when he’s put all his stuff from the stolen car to the Impala, he already makes his way to the bunker again.

For the first few hours, Dean keeps on sleeping – though he makes panicked noises once in a while, so Sam knows he’s having a nightmare. So far there’s still nothing from Cas, and Sam feels sorry for him. He couldn’t imagine having the person he loves betray him like that. And yes, Sam says ‘betray’, because he would _feel_ betrayed.

When it’s about noon, Sam starts to feel sleepy from not having slept at all last night. He has no idea where they are, but they’re in a town, and there’s a tiny motel, so they’re going there. Dean startles awake when the car gets to a stop, and he falls from the backseat with a shout. Sam pays no attention to him but gets out and goes to the reception, getting them a room with two beds. Getting Dean inside is another task Sam wishes he would never have to do again. His brother is so hung over that he can’t function right. The slightest bit of light is too much for him, and the moment he’s up he’s already making retching noises. Sam leads him to the bushes next to their room where Dean spits out the contents of his stomach. Sam turns his head away in disgust.

When they’re finally inside Sam helps unclothing Dean up until his underwear, and when his brother is finally underneath the covers, he makes sure he can’t go anywhere; Sam cuffs his hand to the side of the bed. Dean is already too far gone to notice. Maybe he’s not hung over but still drunk? Who know how much he’s been drinking.

Just to be sure, Sam takes the trash can and puts it next to Dean’s bed, just in case he needs to vomit again. Then he lays himself down in the bed as well. At last.

_No idea where we are, Cas. Too tired to think. We’ll be at the bunker tomorrow morning._

 

* * *

 

 

_The next day_

They never make it to the bunker. Sam wakes up that night with a phone call from Jody Mills, telling them that she’s got something they might be interested in, and with that, the two brothers were on the move again. Sam behind the wheel, Dean still looking like he’s about to pass out in the passenger’s seat. They drive for hours until they arrive at the familiar town of Sioux Falls. Sam knows this place well enough, and he has no trouble to park the car in the station. Dean hasn’t spoken the whole ride, but instead he’s been staring right ahead of him. Sam is starting to get worried about him.

Before he gets out of the car he reaches out for Dean’s shoulder to shake him out of is trance, but as soon as his hand touches his brother, he flinches and barely misses Sam’s face when he punches the air. Completely startled, Sam holds up his hands in surrender, to let Dean see that he won’t try anything else. Dean looks like he’s gone crazy for a moment. His eyes are wide, there’s sweat on his forehead, and his breath is irregular and loud. But eventually, he calms down enough to take in Sam in front of him.

Sam’s heart breaks when he sees his brother’s lost look. The whole journey he’s been going hard on Dean, making sure that the guy ‘suffers’ enough from his hangover, but now he realizes that there was actually a _reason_ Dean ran away that night.

Eventually, both men get out of the car to meet Jody, who’s waiting by her car. She looks a little confused as to why they took so long, but a smile still appears on her face when she sees them.

“Ah, you boys are a sight,” she tells them. Her hair is cut shorter than the last time they saw her. She looks good.

“Jody. How’s the shoulder?” Sam asks. They meet each other halfway. Jody starts massaging the shoulder in question but her smile only gets wider.

“Your Angel patched it up good,” she says, looking up at the rain currently falling from the sky. “How you boys been?”

“Peachy,” Dean mutters. It’s the first thing coming out of his mouth since Sam found him, and it’s already a lie.

“Touch and go,” Sam says instead, not really wanting to elaborate on things. Jody’s gaze rests a little longer on Dean. At last she seems to decide it’s better not to ask.

“I know the feeling,” she says instead. She offers another smile, but this one isn’t as convincing.

“So, what you got for us?” Dean asks all of the sudden, voice sounding a little bit stronger than previously. He still looks pale and his eyes are still red, but he’s standing a little taller again. It seems that he’s really trying not to look sick and tired.

Jody turns around towards her car with a small indication that the brothers follow her. She opens up the trunk of her car where they find the body of a dead boy, with his decapitated head resting between his legs. His clothes are completely covered with blood.

After making sure that nobody’s around, Sam bends down to check on the teeth of the head, finding that there’s indeed a vampire tooth coming out of the gum when he presses on it. He huffs disbelievingly, but still makes an impressed face.

“Yeah, that’s a vamp all right,” he says. Jody closes the trunk again and all three of them take a step back. Behind them, a car passes by on the street.

“I don’t know, Sammy. Looks like Jody might not need our help anymore,” Dean jokes out faintly. Sam decides not to be a jerk anymore, and just plays along.

“Ah, they grow up too fast,” he says, faking the complaining manner he speaks.

“Don’t they?” Dean asks Jody, who just rolls her eyes at them but still smiles.

“Yeah, joke all you want,” she says, and then the smile is suddenly gone. “There’s more where this came from.”

Sam stops smiling as well, then, standing up straight again when he takes in her words. “More?” he asks in surprise.

“My men brought in a runaway last night. There’s no I.D. on her – nothing on her, actually, except for a bus ticket out of Nebraska. Total Jane Doe. She won’t even give me her name.” Jody pushes her hands inside her pockets. “Girl’s basically feral; she’s got zero manners, didn’t even thank me for saving her.”

It’s almost funny how insulted she looks with that.

“Anyhow, this thing went to plenty of trouble to get at her. And to hear him tell it, the ‘other’ will want her at least as bad as he did.”

“Sounds like a nest,” Sam says to Dean, but his brother doesn’t respond other than a small ‘yeah’. Next to them, Jody frowns in confusion.

“Nest? I’m guessing that’s not half as cute and cozy as it sounds.” Ah, yeah, that’s true; Jody’s not completely up to date with monster terminology.

“Oh, I’m afraid not,” Dean mutters, probably thinking back of his time as a vampire a few years ago. Yeah, that had been a disaster. The look Dean gives Sam confirm his suspicions, especially when he shivers lightly on the spot.

They go inside to talk to the girl, finding that she’s not a vampire. She’s snappish, though, obviously unable to wait until she can leave from this place. Through a DNA-test they find that her name is Annie Jones. She’s been taken from her grandparent in 2006, and has no more living relatives for now.

To make it even worse, when they ask her about her feeding her blood to the vampires that held her, she doesn’t deny it. (She also keeps on denying that her name is Annie, insisting on being called Alex instead.)

The vampire Jody killed appears to be Alex’ brother, and that little fact appears to be bothering Jody when they do their research. Dean seems to be doing better too; he has a little bit more color on his face, and though he yawns more often than not, he actually works along with the research.

They agree that Jody goes to her old family cabin outside of the town with Alex for the time being while they take care of the vampire nest. Jody doesn’t seem all that enthusiastic about it, but she doesn’t complain. They leave her with the tip of getting some dead man’s blood.

 

 

_Meanwhile in Heaven_

Castiel doesn’t know why he’s still here.

His wings have been cleared for flight hours ago, but yet he still finds himself up here, in Heaven, wandering around other people’s versions of paradise. He understands that he’s procrastinating, trying to delay seeing Dean again, but _why,_ that he doesn’t understand.

He finds himself in Ellen Harvelle’s heaven all of the sudden, but he woman doesn’t even notice he’s there. She’s sitting in chair outside of a place that must have been her house back in the day, and a tiny little blonde girl with pig tails is sitting not far away from her, playing with her dolls. Ellen looks so much younger than Castiel remembers. Her hair is pulled up in a ponytail and she has sunglasses on the bridge of her nose.

“Hello, Ellen,” Castiel greets her, but while Dean would have startled like always, Ellen just raises an eyebrow and lifts her glasses off.

“Ah, Castiel,” she greets him with a warm smile. She stands up to shake his hand, and now Castiel can see that she’s wearing a summer dress. Little Jo a little further away is also wearing a dress, a white one with blue stripes. She’s talking to her little dolls, doesn’t pay attention to her mother and Castiel talking to each other. “Bobby told me you came to visit him a while back. Was wondering when you’d hop by.”

“You can speak to Bobby?” Castiel asks in surprise. Ellen just shrugs.

“Ah, well, Ash has figured this place out. His Heaven is at my bar, you know. We all meet up there once in a while.”

Castiel makes an impressed face at that revelation. He’s never heard of the souls in Heaven being able to visit other souls. This Ash-person sounds like a wise man. Castiel should really meet him one day, because Dean has also only spoken good things about him. Except, of course, there seems to be an issue with his hair and his nickname, but Castiel can’t really figure out what horribly wrong could be about that.

“Don’t take me wrong, I’m glad you finally showed your face up here,” Ellen suddenly says with her eyes firmly put on Castiel. “But there a reason you’re up here with me and not down there with Dean, who needs you?”

Castiel lowers his head in embarrassment. He knows what he’s doing is wrong, he should really go to Dean. But, he thinks he’s just afraid Dean would send him away again. He’s afraid of seeing Dean so troubled again, looking at Dean like he’s a monster about to hurt him.

“I’m not sure,” Castiel gets out with trouble. Ellen just gives him a sympathetic look and squeezes his shoulder again.

“Listen, trying to talk to Dean is like trying to talk to a brick wall, everybody knows that. But _you’ve_ managed to get through to him multiple times already. Don’t give up on him now.”

With that, Ellen lets go of his shoulder and gets back to her chair. When she sits down, she raises an eyebrow at him.

“Well, what are you still doin’ here? Get to him, feathers!”

With a short nod, Castiel opens up his wings to descend back to Earth. The drop happens quickly, and when he finds himself back down, he makes his way to the bunker. Sam said to meet up there, and if he’s correct, on Earth, that has been about five days ago. Castiel feels ashamed that he’s been gone for so long when Dean needed him. He should have been there instead of letting anger get in his way.

The moment he arrives at the bunker, he finds Kevin sitting at the table in the main hall, slowly working on translating the Angel Tablet. Castiel makes a grand detour when he passes the prophet, trying not to get too close to the thing.

“Hello, Kevin,” Castiel greets him. With a surprise, Kevin looks up. His eyes are wide and his mouth has dropped open. He can’t speak, though, because Sam is already storming up to him the moment he sees him.

Sam doesn’t speak, but instead punches Castiel hard on the jaw. The Angel doesn’t feel it, but Sam does. With a painful grunt, he turns around that very same way Dean did when he last punched him. Castiel wishes he didn’t hurt Sam like this.

“Dammit! You son of a bitch!” Sam shouts out while massaging his hurt hand. Then he turns back to Cas, face angry. _Extremely_ angry. “Where have you been?! I prayed to you _every night_! You never came!”

Castiel doesn’t dare to look up in shame for his actions. He knows he’s been wrong about this; that he stayed in Heaven for too long. If only He could take it back.

“I’m sorry, Sam,” Castiel says quietly. He can see that Sam would gladly punch him again, but the hunter stops himself before making that very same mistake one more time. “I need to get to him, now.”

Sam huffs. “Huh, try getting anything out of him. He’s not talking about it, to nobody.”

“I have to try,” Castiel says, remembering Ellen Harvelle’s words. He makes sure Sam is completely okay with him walking towards the hallways. Kevin watches with big eyes full of surprise. Sam just crosses his arms. Castiel decides it’s best to ignore them both; he marches up to the door of Dean’s room, knocks one time, and waits for an answer.

“Fuck off, Sam!” Dean shouts from the other side of the door. Castiel swallows hard but opens the door still. It creaks, causing Dean to look up from the bed he’s sitting on.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel says in a low voice, afraid to look Dean in the eye. The hunter sets himself straight again and lifts his head when he sees the Angel. He doesn’t speak, though. His jaw clenched shut and his eyes are boring deeply in his. His shoulders seem to tense at the sight of him.

“Cas,” Dean then finally greets him. He shuffles to the side a little bit to make some place for Castiel, but the Angel only walks forward when he’s sure Dean is not flinching in any way. When he sits down next to the hunter, their shoulders are barely touching, and though it’s barely any contact, he shouldn’t rush for more.

Instead he keeps his head low, eyes focused on his clasped hands, fingers fumbling with each other.

“Sorry, Cas,” Dean suddenly says, which is not what Castiel expects. He expects angry words, accusations, being called names. Not an apology for something he couldn’t control. Castiel wants to speak, but then a finger is pressed against his lips. “Don’t talk. I know you’ve done some shit I’m unhappy with, too. But that doesn’t undo me banishing you to Heaven.”

The finger on Castiel’s lips drops back down again, instead travelling to the Angel’s cheek. Dean’s whole palm rests against it, thumb making smooth circles on his skin. Castiel lets out a long breath.

“And I’m sorry for staying away for so long,” Castiel then apologizes in turn. Dean only nods lightly. Despite his strong face, Castiel can see the memories of Hell haunting him, following him where-ever he goes. Slowly, he lifts up is hand and presses two fingers against Dean’s forehead.

“I can take them away, if you want.” His eyes don’t leave Dean’s. The tips of his fingers rest against Dean’s skin, but he keeps the power down as long as Dean doesn’t give him the clear. He’s a little bit surprised when Dean shakes his head instead. Both Castiel’s hands are taken into Dean’s, back to resting on their legs.

“No more messing with my brains, please.” Dean squeezes his fingers a little bit, but then he stands up from where he’s sitting and starts walking around. “I know you think we need to talk about this.”

Castiel nods. “We do.”

“And we will,” Dean promises him. “We will, but just… not now, please?”

This time, Castiel hesitates. Dean would do everything possible to pull off talking about his feelings, but this time it looks like Dean understands that he has a problem. Who is Castiel to force him into talking when such a big step has already been taken? So instead, Castiel stands up to get behind Dean, reaching his hand to the hunter’s shoulder.

“Can I take you somewhere?” Castiel asks cautiously. Dean smiles lightly and nods. He doesn’t make any sudden movements when they finally touch each other again. Castiel closes his eyes while he opens up his wings. He knows that Dean isn’t able to see them, so there’s no need to be majestic about it. He pulls Dean closer to himself and then takes off again.

Not much more than a second later, Castiel touches down again. He’s never been here before, but he’s thought about coming here for a while now. It might be the most ideal place for Dean to distract himself. Next to him, the hunter tries to get steady on his feet. He’s touching around with his hand to find something to lean on, but after a few seconds, he seems to be feeling all right again. Castiel can see him looking around in awe, mouth falling open from admiration. It’s only normal; the sunset brings a bright and golden tint to the trees and plants surrounding them. There are mountains far away, fields of flowers, and quite further they can see a castle. Above them some birds are flying, whistling beautiful melodies as they pass. The grass underneath them is healthy and soft, and now and then a white little flower joins in the big green.

“Where are we?” Dean asks, suddenly sounding just as happy as a child would be upon arriving at an amusement park. Castiel takes his hand inside his own and squeezes his fingers again.

“We’re here to visit a friend,” Castiel explains to him. Dean should connect the dots real soon by now. If it’s even possible, his mouth seems to fall open even more, and he takes a step back when he tries to take in everything again.

“Welcome to Oz.”

 

 

 

 

 


	8. Did you at least cry while reading?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm soooooooooooooooooooooo sorry this chapter is so much shorter than the other ones, but I already missed my deadline of posting on Sunday's, and my life is actually all kind of super busy and messed up right now, so this is the best I can come up with. You can kind of see it as a filler chapter. I need to move this story along a little bit, because normally I had planned for Dean to already have been turned into a woman by now. I guess me wanting to prove that I could write a long story kind of got in the way of that, right?  
> Anyway, I at least hope you'll enjoy this chapter. 
> 
> Also, a little update: I changed something in chapter four. Somehow, I decided back then to stray from my path, and Castiel randomly told Dean he loved him. That DIDN'T happen! It was just stupid me, writing things I shouldn't have written.

They’re seated by the campfire. It’s the middle of the night, most of the people have already gone to sleep. Charlie hasn’t, though, but she’s close to snoozing off as well. Dean can see her resting her head against Dorothy’s shoulder, their hands touching multiple times. Heck, he’s even seen the looks they’ve been sharing.

Their evening at the campsite has been relaxing. Dean’s been keeping busy; collect some woods, put up the tents, start the fire. In the meantime, Charlie had been taking care of Dorothy’s wounds – until of course Cas came up with his healing fingers to patch her up completely. After that, the two girls started to join some other people to get to the dinner, and Castiel had come to help with the tents.

They shared stories about the things they’ve been through, but on Dorothy’s and Charlie’s part, it’s more the funny that come out. They seem reluctant to talk about the resistance against the Witch’s army, which is quite understandable. So Dean tells them instead on what’s been happening on Earth. Charlie asks about Sam, about Kevin, though she has yet to meet him. She even asks about Crowley, if he’s still being an asshole. Dean gives her an update about everything and she listens with much interest.

Having Castiel with him again helped calming him down. He knows that, whatever happened the last week, isn’t good at all; heck he even _recognizes_ he has a problem, as Cas called it earlier. While at first he’s been shying away from the Angel’s touch, now it’s bearable again. His mind is distracted enough again not to connect any direct contact with the terrible moments he’s had with Alastair.

Dean watches how Dorothy helps bringing Charlie to their tent. He can’t help but smile at seeing her carry the woman with such gentleness that it’s almost too sweet to watch. It takes a moment for him to realize that he would actually do the same thing for Cas if the Angel would have been able to sleep. For a second he tightens his hold on his hand. Castiel smiles at him.

With the help of Cas, his dreams that night are finally nightmare-free. They’re at a lake together, joined by Sam, Kevin, Mrs. Tran, Jody and Kevin. It’s like a family-outing they’re having; just a moment out of the hunting-world, time to relax a little bit again.

When Dean wakes up again, it’s with Cas spooned up behind him, pressing soft kisses on the back of his neck. Dean puts his hand on the Angel’s cheek, and for a few minutes they just lazily make out. Nothing more comes out of it, but it isn’t necessary for them.

Dean never thought he could, but he still finds himself having everything he’s secretly been wanting.

After breaking up camp again, Dean and Castiel say goodbye to Charlie and Dorothy, and they make a promise to come by soon again, next time with Sam as well. The flight back home doesn’t take long, just a fragment of a second.

Afterwards, their lives seems to get back on track again; Sam and Dean get on a few more hunts, Castiel helps Kokabiel with the last bit of the elections, having the event getting closer with every day. Sam and Castiel continue talking as if the hunter has never tried to punch the Angel, but Dean is still aware that Sam hasn’t completely forgiven him for skipping out on them. It bites at him that his brother is so upset with it, but in the end it still kind of warms his heart that he cares so much.  

The closer the elections are getting to an end, the more nervous Castiel seems to be getting. He starts pacing around the rooms in the bunker and gets snappy whenever Dean tells him to sit down. Dean can’t blame him, though, because these elections really seem to be a big deal to Cas.

He’s completely up to date with how everything is happening upstairs, and he even thinks Kokabiel actually has a chance of winning this thing. That could be a good thing, too, because the Angels could actually start learning some things from the humans. Dean just hopes they learn the good things and not the bad ones.

The pair hangs out together most of the time, just talking mostly, but otherwise nothing goes any further than making out. Dean knows it’s a whole step back from where they’ve been before, but luckily Cas understands that this isn’t the most easy thing for Dean – which is actually sadly ironic since having sex never really brought _any_ issue to the hunter in the past. Times can change a man, though, but Dean thinks that the nerves weren’t helping as well that one evening.

Castiel still feels responsible for their troublesome evening together at their sixth month anniversary, but Dean just feels equally guilty about it. They don’t talk a lot about it because Dean mostly doesn’t want to, but the subject has come up a few times when they’re both happily snuggled in bed.

“When you’re ready again, we should just stick to what we’ve always been doing,” Castiel one day tells him when Dean’s spooned up behind his back. Dean only nods, understanding what the Angel really means. He has to agree with this suggestion. Until they’ve worked past this, they should keep doing what they’ve been doing before.

Waking up next to Cas has once again become one of Dean’s favorite things again. The moment he opens his eyes, awakening from a beautiful dream – thanks to Cas – and finding his Angel watching over him and all snuggled up against him can bring a smile on his face that needs really terrible news to bring it back down.

The days when Dean and Sam are out hunting and Cas goes to meet up with his Angel-friends to work on the elections become bearable again, too, when the pair has reached the point in their relationship where they don’t constantly need each other to feel okay. It’s a big relief for everybody else in the bunker and Sam, too, seems to have found peace at last now that his brother isn’t jumpy all the time.

At the end of November, after Dean and Sam just finished up a case that really hurt Dean’s head, the two brothers find themselves with the car parked in a field. It’s not warm outside, not even close, but somehow, neither of them feel the cold as they’re lying on the front of the car, looking up at the stars in the sky.

“Hey Dean,” Sam suddenly asks after they’ve been lying there for an hour. He keeps his eyes on this one star that seems to be shining the brightest, while Dean turns to face his brother shortly.

“Yeah?” he asks, surprised by the softness of his voice. After all this time spent with Cas, it feels good again to just simply hang around with his little brother. He cares about Cas, a lot, but there’s still nothing Dean would put in front of his brother. That’s also why the pair has decided not to exaggerate on their time together. Castiel understands that the bond the brothers share is a rare one.

“Are you ever thinking about where you and Cas are going?” his little brother asks eventually after a short silence. His voice is hesitant, as if he’s afraid Dean is going to flip out at the question. Normally, Dean would, because one: it’s none of his business, and two: thinking about the future is something he rarely does, since they’re never sure if they even have a future, or if they get killed on the next case.

With Cas, though, everything seems to have changed. So that’s why this time he answers: “Hopefully to many more years together.” He gives his brother a quick nudge to his shoulder and smiles. “I’m going to deny it if you ever repeat this, but I like to think that, when it’s my time to go, Cas would come and join me upstairs.”

“So you’re going for eternity together?” Sam jokes, and Dean laughs because it’s just too cheesy. Despite that, though, Dean finds that it might kind of be true as well. And as the thought hits him, he starts waiting for the panic to rise, to ruin this very pleasant moment of peace and quiet with his brother. But it doesn’t come; his mind is completely calm, his heart hasn’t started beating faster, and his breathing is just the same.

And when that thought finally sinks in, all Dean can do is chuckle one final time and shake his head. Mostly because he can’t really believe what has become of him. He’s been in a romantic relationship, with an Angel in a dude’s body nonetheless, and he has no plans of said relationship to end anytime soon. What was it Castiel said when they first got together? ‘ _But Dean,_ _I’m not planning on this not working out’._

Even now, Dean still has to blush at how much faith Castiel seems to be having in them. And apparently, Sam seems to be sharing that faith, because in those few times Dean thought that it was just doomed to end, his younger brother had been there to assure him that _that_ couldn’t be possible.

“Do you think-?” Sam starts, but he suddenly interrupts himself in an attempt to take back that thought. “Never mind,” he quietly adds to it. Dean doesn’t take any of that, though. He sits up a little to watch his brother, finding him frowning up at the stars.

“Just ask, Sammy,” Dean mutters at him. Sam swallows loudly then.

“It’s kind of a heavy question, you don’t have to answer it,” he says before starting. “Do you ever wish you two would have been able to have a kid together?”

Dean’s words get stuck on his tongue when the question is done. With wide eyes he looks at his younger brother, wondering where that thought came from. It is indeed a heavy question. It’s also one he’s never really thought about before.

Having kids has never been more than just a dream. He’s had the feeling with Ben, and if they’re counting it, he did _have_ a daughter, though she just tried to kill him in the end and got killed by her uncle instead. Other than that, he’d never thought he could get anything more than just those two experiences. Having children would also mean he would have to stop hunting and settle down, and he knows that, if he were ever put in a situation where he’d become a father, he would do it immediately for the sake of the kid. But that doesn’t mean it’s Dean first choice, per se.

Dean loves hunting, loves saving people, and though he enjoys his safe little room in the bunker, he does really enjoy those voyages he makes by car to get from one state to the other. The same goes for Cas as well; he would do anything to make his kid happy and healthy, but Castiel still has this thing where he keeps on feeling responsible for the whole world’s sadness and pain, and the Angel would _always_ want to save everybody.

So, while the thoughts of having a kid to call their own would be kind of awesome – because let’s be honest here, Dean would just make one kick-ass dad – he doubts that it could ever be possible.

“It doesn’t matter what we wish, Sammy,” Dean finally starts. “Cas and I don’t have the luxury to think about children.” He wishes that the conversation is over with this. It’s just an innocent question, it’s just his brother trying to find out if there’s a chance for them to retire at last, and find a way to build a family of their own.

But they tried that in the past, and it failed every time. Dean thinks back of his time with Lisa, where the world of the hunter sucked him right back in. Or he thinks of Jess, or that Amelia-woman. Or even that Daphne-woman they never talk about – because Dean doesn’t really want to think back of that day where he’d found out Cas not only didn’t remember him, but also got married to a strange woman.

“But Dean-,” Sam already starts. His sentence is cut short by Dean’s hand suddenly lifted in the air to shut him up.

“Please, Sammy, let’s just enjoy this moment,” Dean almost begs of him. Obviously against his will, Sam nods. His face is hard and annoyed, but at least he respects Dean’s request to stop asking about it. And after that, they remain on the hood of the car for another hour until they find they have lost all feeling on their skin and after that, they return to the motel to warm themselves up again.

Having finished up this last hunt between two families of monsters – heck, Dean doesn’t even want to think about it because it all just sounded _way_ to ridiculous to even be considered real – the brothers decide not yet to return to the bunker. They do drive back in that direction, but they take longer routes, visit some worthy spots like normal tourists would do.

And for a moment, they manage to feel normal for once. A few times, Cas joins them, and though he’s never done it before, Dean _does_ take Cas out for a date two times. Despite that Cas doesn’t eat, their evening at the restaurant is still pleasant, and during the evening they’re both snuggled up in the bed together, simply laying there without the need to talk.

It all feels so domestic to Dean, and it should frighten him. He should be having the urge to scream and run away all the time, but that feeling just doesn’t come. Not when Castiel is pressed up to his side, head resting on his chest, and their fingers entwined together. He neither does when he wakes up with Castiel spooned up behind him, the complete opposite of how they went to sleep.

December is just starting when they reach the bunker again. They have been doing small hunts in between their road trip, but right now, nothing seem to be happening. The brothers are not going to complain about that, though. Sam enjoys his free time by playing games with Kevin (it goes from chess to some shooting game on the PS3 Mrs. Tran bought for them). Sometimes Dean joins them, winning every game from everybody because he’s just too good to ever be beaten. It’s downright hilarious when Cas holds the controller in his hand, though, telling calm commands to the device he’s holding and staring in surprise when he finds that he’s once again been shot to death. He refuses to play after six more times.

They’re just finishing up a case of vampire nests when they get a call from Jody, telling them that there have been a few mysterious missing-cases she can’t place. Sam has literally thrown his gigantic body on his bed in order to catch up some sleep, so Dean is speaking in a hushed voice over the phone.

“What have you found so far?” he asks in his cellphone, keeping a close look on his unconscious brother, snoring loudly on the mattress.

“ _Nothing, so far. These vics have almost nothing in common_ ,” she tells him.

“Yeah, okay, Sammy and I will check it out tomorrow, you just stay safe,” Dean tells her.

“ _Yeah yeah, got it_ boss _. Alex says hi.”_

“Tell her hi from me, too,” Dean says quickly before hanging up. He shoots one quick glance at his brother, but decides not to bother him just yet. It could wait until morning. He makes a quick prayer to Cas, letting him know that he’s headed back to Sioux Falls for another case, hoping that it gets through to the Angel, who’s so busy with the last bits and pieces of the elections in Heaven.

Dean understands how nervous Cas is about this, all of the sudden. It is left unspoken, but this thing they have together could be doomed if the wrong person would get at the top. Ezekiel wants to interact more with humans, but discourages romantic involvement. With Bartholomew or Malachi as the winner, they wouldn’t even be allowed to stay together as friends.

To Dean, it is still vague what Azrael really wants; she’s really shady from what Dean has picked up from Castiel’s ranting about her. She wants to rebuild Heaven like previously, doesn’t discourage relationships, but is strictly against the creation of Nephilim. Dean still doesn’t get why Cas is so intimidated by her, because in exception of Kokabiel, Azrael seems to be their best choice, right? It’s not like they’re even able to get children together, so her _no-offspring_ -rule doesn’t really apply to them.

The next morning Dean fills Sam in on what Jody’s told him over the phone. Five murders, all by somebody close to them in the last month. Nothing else that Jody has found. Sam still agrees to come with, though, and by nine in the morning they’re both in the car, getting ready to go back to Sioux Falls.

“Jody hunting, it’s really something, huh?” Sam asks with a weird look on his face that’s stuck between worry and amusement. Dean can understand, though. He too feels a little worried for the Sherriff, hoping she wouldn’t get hurt in one of these cases.

Also, is Sioux Falls the capitol of Monsters or something? They keep returning there every two or so months!

“I swear, it’s like very monster has set base in Sioux Falls or something,” Dean mutters. “Maybe Charlie was right about the Monster magnet.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “You know there’s no such thing as a monster magnet.”

“Could have fooled me,” Dean mutters to himself. He reaches for the volume of his radio. The whole ride is filled with some discussions about the latest Hobbit-movie Sam really wants to watch after he’s finished reading all the books. 

The conversation has shifted over to Star Trek when they arrive at the police station once again, with Jody waiting for them. Her hair has grown longer again, and somehow she looks happier. She offers the boys each a hug before getting to the point.

The case takes about three days, sadly one more victim, before they kill the bastard – A siren doing his thing… of course. Jody has one more monster to add to her repertoire, but at least neither one of them got under its spell – so at least that’s an improvement from the last time.

They leave Sherriff Mills after a small visit to her home to say a quick hi to Alex, and after that, they find themselves back on the road towards the bunker. Dean sleeps through the whole drive, jumping awake when his brother starts to shake him.

“Hey man, we’re home,” he says with his hands in the air. Dean nods, rubs his eyes and then looks around. It’s still dark outside. If his watch is correct, it’s only a little past midnight, so there’s plenty excuse to just dive back into bed and sleep some more.

Just like Dean hoped, Cas is already there, sitting on Dean’s bed patiently until the hunter returns. Their greetings is only a small kiss on the lips before Dean just drops down to sleep. In his dreams, Castiel follows him again.

They’re in a park this time. All over the grass there are families sitting there, eating some picnic with their children running around while screaming loudly. Dean doesn’t even look up when all of the sudden a little child comes to sit with them, snuggling closer to the Angel in front of him.

“Daddy, Joe just stole my little ship,” the boy says shyly with his face pressed against Castiel’s chest. His hands are gripping tight to the fabric of his shirt, and for a moment, Castiel looks a little bewildered, which makes Dean smile.

“Eh,” Castiel begins. Dean gestures that he should wrap his arms around the boy, so the Angel complies; pulling the kid in a small hug. “Then tell him I said to give it back?” he tries. Then the boy pulls out of his arms and nods wildly before running off again towards another little boy a little further away.

Dean chuckles at the sight. When he sees Castiel looking at him in wonder, he has to lower his gaze in embarrassment. Somehow, he kind of wishes he hadn’t join him in this particular dream.

“Dean,” Castiel already starts. That’s Dean’s cue to rise, though. He puts away the plate that appears to have been resting on his legs and gets up, planning on walking straight into another dream. After almost seven months, Dean must admit he’s gotten the hang of this dream-controlling.

The Angel just follows him, though. Of course he would. There’s obviously no actual way for him to avoid having this conversation, but that doesn’t mean he can’t try.

“Dean, this dream is _really_ domestic,” finally comes out right before Dean can make the switch to another landscape. He turns back to Castiel, eyes wandering all over the park they’re finding themselves in. The two kids he suspects are theirs are once again playing together, each of them holding a small plastic boat-toy.

“I know Cas, please just-,” Dean takes a deep breath and scratches his hair. “Please just don’t- don’t ask too much about it, okay?”

Castiel’s jaw tenses. His hands are balled in fists, and for a moment it looks like he wants to step forward and reach for Dean. It looks like he can’t, though. Instead he sighs at last, shaking his head.

“I wish I could-.” Castiel suddenly stops as if he’s gasping for breath. His face looks pained. Dean doesn’t like it. “Dean, even if I had been in a female vessel, I wouldn’t have been able to carry a child for you. Angels just can’t.”

Dean’s hands find Castiel’s arm, and he holds him strongly in an attempt to get his attention again. With sad eyes Castiel looks right at Dean before he walks forward to press himself against Dean’s chest. Dean wraps his arms around him and holds him tight.

“Cas, it’s okay. It’s just a dream, I know that this could never be us,” Dean mutters against his hair. “Don’t apologize to me; even if we were able to have them, would we really want to raise kids in the life we have?”

Because Dean would do anything to have his children stay out of the hunting world. He tried so hard with Ben; avoiding talking about that one case they had back when the kid was eight, keeping every kind of weapon away from him. Lisa had agreed to that decision, because who wouldn’t? Mary Winchester had wanted nothing more than to have her two sons live normally without the monsters. He can’t imagine the sadness she felt when she watched over them while they grew older.

The dream-setting finally changes, and all of the sudden the pair is sitting in a little rowboat. They’re still holding each other close, though. Dean doesn’t immediately recognize this place, but he likes the calmness of it. Still, he already kind of misses the two boys from the last dream.

They stay in there until Dean wakes up again, and neither of them bring up the conversation they had. Still, that doesn’t mean that they don’t still think about it.

 

* * *

 

 

_December 15 th 2013  
Heaven_

 

Castiel thinks Heaven has never been as alive as today. All the Angels are scattered together to one place, patiently waiting to make their vote on the five candidates.

For the last seven and half months they’ve been holding campaigns, each of them sharing with the others what their beliefs are, what they want to accomplish. They also had the opportunity to speak publicly last month to answer any further questions the other Angels might have.

But right now is the moment all this build-up has been for, and when Castiel neatly marks Kokabiel’s name, he can’t help the shudder that passes through him when he reads Azrael’s name. He _really_ wishes she doesn’t win.

Normally, after all that is set and done, he would return back to Earth and spend some more time with Dean, but since that dream it looks like something has shifted between the two. Dean seems more quiet, reserved about what he’s thinking, and unintentionally, Castiel finds himself avoiding the hunter a little bit, probably from the shame that he can’t give Dean what he clearly seems to be wanting, no matter how much he denies it.

On his way out of the voting booth he passes Inias, who smiles at him warmly. He holds his thumbs up a little stiffly – a move he has learned from watching humans these last few months. Castiel just nods back at him and makes his way out of the crowd.

For a moment he starts wondering what he can do. There’s still many Angel who have to vote, and the results will only be made public after two Earth days, so he finds he still has some time to fill. Dean and Sam are on another hunt anyway, and it’s not like he wants to return to the bunker to converse some more with Crowley.

They really need to figure out what to do with him.

Somehow, Castiel finds himself in front of the guarded portals of the dungeons. He hasn’t been here for more than seven months, now, but still not much has changed. The guards are Portia and Bariel, two Angels who fought alongside him during the battle against Raphael. They greet him shortly, but it doesn’t surprise Castiel that they are still bitter about his deeds. Castiel just nods and gets granted entrance. Portia follows him inside for extra security.

Immediately, his eyes fall once again upon the Angel still sitting in the cell next to Metatron’s. Castiel swears he’s never seen this particular Angel before, though he thought he knew everyone of Heaven. Obviously, he was wrong, then?

“Who is this?” Castiel asks Portia in a whisper, pointing at the Angel sitting on the floor. Its grace isn’t shining brightly at all anymore, and all Castiel can see are scars. This one must have been suffering a lot then, but what was their crime?

“That’s Gadreel,” Portia explains coldly. She throws the Angel – Gadreel – an angry look, but doesn’t get any response back. Of course, everybody knows of Gadreel; he’s the Angel that allowed the serpent to enter Eden. He’s the reason why there’s so much chaos on the world.

He feels an immediate wave of hatred for this Angel; they destroyed the universe. They chose Lucifer’s side and made sure eternal happiness became impossible for humans. He finds his hands immediately balled into fists and he takes a deep breath to calm himself down.

“And that’s Abner, his partner,” Portia suddenly says, pointing somewhere a little further in that same cell. Castiel looks a little more closely, only finding that there’s indeed another Angel present in that room, looking even more miserable and scarred than Gadreel.

“Partner?” Castiel asks in surprise. The term could mean a lot of things, and the first thing that comes into his mind is also the last thing he would expect from Angels. Gadreel and Abner have been locked up since before the dawn of time, and the rules were even stricter back then. There’s no possible way that they were what he thinks they were.

“Yeah, together they allowed the serpent in,” Portia clarifies. “They guarded the garden together that day. Been punished for it since then.”

Castiel frowns at that. He knows that this punishment she’s talking about isn’t about sitting their time in jail. The scars and broken wings are indication enough for Castiel, now. They’ve been tortured!

Somehow, his first thought is: good, they deserve it. But the longer he looks at Gadreel and Abner, the more he starts to feel something uneasy inside of him. For the first time, Gadreel looks up. The eyes of their true appearance look him right in the eye, and for a moment, their minds connect.

With just one second of eye-contact, Castiel’s chest feels like exploding from the sudden pain that comes with it. He doesn’t intent to keep the connection up for too long, but the grief, the sadness is just so big that his mind seems to suddenly stop.

He only regains full consciousness when Portia shakes him out of the trance, and it takes him a moment to get back to the reality he’s in. Those memories, those feelings, they must have been the most intense things Castiel has ever seen, ever felt.

If people think torture is cruel in Hell they clearly don’t know what Angels are capable of.

Castiel wants to talk to them, wants to find out what exactly happened that day in the garden. He wants to understand why these two Angels did what they did. But, with Portia by his side, he’s a little hesitant to start.

“Yoohoo, Castiel? I’m starting to feel a little abandoned here,” Metatron suddenly whines, but he quickly shuts up when Portia slams her Angel sword against the bars of his cell. Metatron jumps back a little bit in fear, making a pathetic face to earn himself some sympathy, which he doesn’t get.

Castiel makes a mental note to return here without a guard joining him to get a talk with Gadreel or Abner, if they’re even open for any kind of discussion. He doesn’t understand why this gets to him so hard, and it seems to be eating at him inside.

When Castiel can see Metatron clearly, he finds the scribe seated on the ground with a typing-machine on his thighs. Bundles of papers are stacked up in piles, each of these pages completely filled with words. For a moment, Castiel’s mouth falls open, but he quickly regains himself.

“Ah, you noticed my stories?” Metatron asks proudly. Castiel just ignores him, turning towards Portia instead.

“Why is he allowed that device?” he asks, not intending to sound so defensively but failing. Portia’s expression doesn’t change, but she does cross her arms together. The sword is safely sheathed back inside her sleeve.

“He kept on yammering about it, saying that he needs to write his stories or he was going crazy. I voted on letting him get all insane, but the other guards agreed that it wouldn’t be much harm.”

Castiel’s eyes wander over the stacks of pages. They’re not all of the same heights; the story on Metatron’s left is slightly longer than the one behind him. Castiel finds himself wondering what they’re about.

“Ah, you’re curious, aren’t you?” Metatron asks with a smirk.  Castiel raises his head, but doesn’t get himself to answering. Instead, the scribe points at the tallest story-pile in the room. “This one is the story of how it was supposed to go after I took your Grace,” he explains calmly as if that’s just the most normal thing in the world. Then he turns to his left. “This one can be seen as a part two of that same story.” And then he goes to his right. “This one is about me saving the Angels from God’s wrath.”

“That’s blasphemy,” Portia hisses at him. The sword has returned back in her hands. Metatron makes a small jump-scare from her sudden outburst. Castiel holds her back by pressing a hand on her arm. Clearly against her will, she drops the sword again, but her shoulders stay tense.

“You talk too much,” Castiel mutters at the Angel inside the cell, causing Metatron to frown up at him.

“Then why did you come to see me?” he asks accusingly.

“Because I enjoy thinking about you locked up in here, rotting until the end of time. It’s my… happy place.” That’s not completely true because his happy place is actually on the road with the brothers, getting to the next hunt. Metatron squints up at him and shakes his head.

“Yeah? Uh, no,” he starts, pushing aside the typing machine and walking towards the bars. “I’ll get out. It may take a century, may take a millennium or two, but this dump will not hold me forever. And when I’m free – here’s a little sneak preview – everybody dies.”

Castiel just shakes his head in annoyance. He shoots one look at Portia, whose face is just as stony cold as always. “Like I said; you talk too much.”

After that he makes his exit again, leaving Metatron, Abner and Gadreel behind him. He’s not really sure what got him to return to the dungeons again. Probably he just needs the regular reassurance that Metatron is safely stuck behind bars, that there’s no more danger for him to lose his Grace in an attempt to close down Heaven.

When Portia rejoins him, she’s holding one of the stacks of papers in her hands. Castiel can’t immediately say which one it is, but he wonders why she brought it along. She answers that question right after that.

“He wanted you to read through this one,” Portia says, sounding a little puzzled about it. She also looks a little bit curious as to what exactly is written, and Castiel has to admit he shares that sentiment. Without questioning it he picks up the bundle from her hands. If he won’t be disturbed, he could finish it up until the votes are counted.

With one small nod towards Portia and Bariel, Castiel flies off again, travelling towards the Heaven he’s visited multiple times by now. This time, though, he doesn’t make himself visible to Bobby. He just wants to have a peaceful place where he could read up. So, when he arrives, he drops the papers on Bobby’s desk and starts reading. The older hunter just passes him by a couple of times, but eventually gets into the couch to join Dean and Sam again, finding the two boys in a discussion about some people Castiel can’t really put a face on.

 

* * *

 

 

_“Cas, what the hell’s going on?”_

_“Metatron tricked me. It wasn’t Angel trials. It was a spell. I wanted you to know that.”_

_“Okay. That’s great, but we’ve got ourselves a problem.”_

_“What’s wrong?”_

_“Sam. He’s, um, they say he’s dying.”_

* * *

 

_“Yes, there’s more to humanity than survival. You… look for purpose, and you must not be defeated by anger or despair. Or hedonism, for that matter.”_

_“Where does hedonism come into it?”_

_“Well, my time with April was very educational.”_

_“Yeah, I mean, I would think that getting killed is something.”_

_“And having sex.”_

 

* * *

 

_“Epic food. I can’t get enough.”_

_“Cas, wan we talk?”_

_“Of course. Dean you know I always appreciate our talks, our time together.”_

_“Listen buddy. Um, you can’t stay.”_

* * *

 

_“Hello?”_

_“I may have a case for you. Four missing in Rexford, Idaho. Presumed dead, but no bodies have been released to loved ones. And there were reports of a strange substance at the scenes.”_

_“Oh well, hello to you too, Cas. How are you?”_

_“I… am busy.”_

_“All right, so how do you want to do this? You want to meet up at the latest scene? You want me to pick you up? What?”_

_“Um, I’ve got my hands full over here, I just- um…”_

_“Cas, Hello?”_

_“-thought you would want to know about the case.”_

_“Hey, you sure everyting’s-… O-okay…”_

* * *

 

_“I’ll have some beef jerky and a pack of menthols.”_

_“What are you doing here?”_

_“Gee, it’s nice to see you too, Cas.”_

_“It’s Steve now. And, uh, you know you surprised me.”_

_“Well, the feeling is mutual. I mean, I knew you had to lay low from the Angel threat, but, uh, wow. This is some cover.”_

_“My Grace is gone. What did you expect? Do you have any idea how hard it was? When I fell to Earth, I didn’t just lose my powers. I- I had nothing. Now… I’m a sales associate.”_

* * *

 

_“Okay.”_

_“Thanks, Dean.”_

_“Cas, wait. I can’t let you do this.”_

_“What?”_

_“You’re gonna wear that, on a date?”_

_“This is all I have, Dean.”_

_“Okay, uh, lose the vest.”_

_“What are you-?”_

_“Lose the vest, come on. That’s a little better. All right, there we go, all right. And do the buttons – why don’t you unbutton it? Okay, th- that’s far enough, Tony Manero. Um.. Yeah, good. All right, listen to me. Always open the door for her, okay? Ask a lot of questions, they like that. And, uh, oh, if she says she’s happy to go Dutch, she’s lying all right? Go get ‘em tiger.”_

* * *

 

_“It is so good being together again. You know, this is my first beer as a human. I hope it’s okay, me joining you?”_

_“Why wouldn’t it be okay?”_

_“You know, Cas, are you sure you’re ready to jump back into all this? I mean, it seemed to me like you’d actually found some peace.”_

_“Hey, you once told me that you don’t choose what you do. It chooses you.”_

_“Huh?”_

_“I’m a part of this, like it or not.”_

* * *

 

_“I, um, I noticed you look… kind of uncomfortable whenever Sam mentions my leaving. Doesn’t he know that you told me to leave?”_

_“Here’s the deal. When Sam was doing the trials to seal up Hell, it messed him up, Okay? The third one nearly killed him. If I’d let him finish, it would have. He’s still messed up, bad.”_

_“You said the Angel, Ezekiel, helped heal him.”_

_“Look, I got to do anything I can to get him back. Now, if that means that we keep our distance from you for a little while, then… then I don’t have a choice. I don’t feel good about it, but I don’t have a choice. It’s great to have your help, Cas. Okay, but we just can’t work together.”_

* * *

 

_“Yeah.”_

_“Dean, I don’t have a lot of time, so listen. The leader of the opposition is an Angel named Malachi.”_

_“How do you know that?”_

_“He had me. I, uh, I was tortured. But I got away.”_

_“How?”_

_“I… I did what I had to. I became what they’ve become. A barbarian.”_

_“What are you- Cas, where are you?”_

_“It’s better I stay away. They’re gonna want me even more now. But I’m gonna be all right. I… I got my Grave back. Well, not mine per se, but it’ll do.”_

* * *

 

_“God, I was so damn stupid.”_

_“You were stupid for the right reasons.”_

_“Yeah, like that matters.”_

_“It does. Sometimes that’s all that matters.”_

* * *

 

_“I can’t watch that anymore.”_

_“I understand. It’s not Sam, but… it’s stil Sam.”_

_“Pretty much, yeah. How are you doing?”_

_“You want to talk about me, now?”_

_“I want to talk about anything that’s not a demon sticking needles into my brother’s brain. Yeah, humor me, man. How you doing?”_

_“Uh… I’m okay.”_

* * *

 

_“Hold on. This may pinch.”_

_“Cas, what the hell? Cas what the hell was that?!”_

_“I’ve healed your wounds completely.”_

_“And the Grace?”_

_“Well, whatever Grave was inside you is gone now. What’s left of Gadreel is in here. We’ll just have to try the spell with what we have.”_

_“Damn it.”_

_“Sam, I want Gadreel to pay just as much as you do. But nothing is worth losing you. You know, being human, it didn’t just change my view of food. It changed my view of you. I mean, I can relate now to how you feel.”_

_“What are you talking about?”_

_“The only person who has screwed things up more consistently than you… is me. And now I know what that guilt feels like. And I know what it… I know what it means to feel sorry, Sam. I am sorry.”_

_“I know.”_

_“You know, old me- I would’ve have just kept going. I would’ve jammed that needle in deeper until you died because the ends always justified the means. But what I went through – well, that PB and J taught me that Angels can change, so… who knows? Maybe Winchesters can, too.”_

* * *

 

_“Honor bar… what’s honorable about a miniature bar in a motel room?”_

_“Everything.”_

_“How are you, Dean?”_

_“I’m fine, Cas. How ‘bout you?”_

_“I miss my wings. Life on the road… Smells.”_

_“Hmm…”_

* * *

 

_“You sure you’re all right?”_

_“Yes, are you? There’s something different about you.”_

_“I’m fine.”_

_“What have you done?”_

_“It’s a means to an end.”_

_“Damn it, Dean!”_

_“Look, you find Heaven, you drop a dime. Meantime, I got a knight to kill.”_

* * *

 

_“So… commander?”_

_“Yeah, not my idea. They had no leader and they insisted on following me.”_

_“Yeah, no, we get it. You’re a rock star.”_

* * *

 

_“Sir, this morning, Josiah wasn’t at roll call.”_

_“Uh, roll call? You hold, uh, roll call?”_

_“They like to hear me say their names.”_

_“I know a couple of women like that.”_

* * *

 

_“So, I should just sit here?”_

_“Pretty much.”_

_“No. If you don’t want my help, then I will follow Josiah’s trail to Colorado. I have to do something, Dean.”_

_“All right, fine. But Sam’s coming with you.”_

_“What?”_

_“Because you don’t trust me?”_

_“To help.”_

* * *

 

_“Punish him.”_

_“What?”_

_“He murdered Tessa. He broke our rules.”_

_“Ya’ll can all go to Hell.”_

_“Dean.”_

_“Hey, wait a sec-!”_

_“You gave us order, Castiel, and we gave you our trust. Don’t lose it over one man. This is justice.”_

_“No, I can’t.”_

_“Goodbye, Castiel.”_

* * *

 

_“So, batteries…”_

_“I’m fine.”_

_“No, you’re not. How long you got?”_

_“Long enough to destroy Metatron, I hope. But without an army…”_

_“well, hey, you still got us.”_

_“Dean, those bombers. You don’t really think that I-?”_

_“Cas, you just gave up an entire army for one guy. No, there’s no way that you blew those people away.”_

_“You really believe we three will be enough?”_

_“We always have been.”_

* * *

 

_“Well played, Castiel. Obviously, you and Gadreel managed to turn a few dead enders against me.”_

_“Gadreel is dead.”_

_“Ah, so Gadreel bites the dust. And the Angel Tablet – arguably the most powerful instrument in the history of the universe – is in pieces, and for what again? Oh, that’s right – to save Dean Winchester. That was your goal, right? I mean, you draped yourself in the flag of Heaven, but ultimately, it was all about saving_ one human _, right? Well guess what. He’s dead, too.”_

* * *

 

_“You’re doing the right thing – letting him live. It’s what a leader would do.”_

_“I’m no leader, Hannah. I never was. I just want to be an Angel.”_

_“And your Grace? What will you do about that? You will die if you don’t replenish it.”_

* * *

 

_“Listen to me, Dean Winchester, what you’re feeling right now – it’s not death. It’s life – a new kind of life. Open your eyes, Dean. See what I see, feel what I feel. And let’s go take a howl at that moon.”_

_Eyes open. They are black._

 

* * *

“You have a few inaccurate things,” Castiel mumbles out, leaning his back against the wall. He can’t find it in himself to look directly at Metatron, currently sitting on the floor, writing down the next part of the story Castiel has just read.

“Like what, Castiel?” Metatron asks mockingly.

“The trials did not kill Sam Winchester,” Castiel brings up for example. Metatron just rolls his eyes and huffs loudly.

“Not going through with them would have,” Metatron explains. “Sam’s body would have shut down completely, and Gadreel, completely confused about everything that has happened, would come to the rescue.”

Castiel just doesn’t want to believe it. The story, it was so believingly written, but most of it just breaks his heart every time he even thinks of it. Just to think that, had they not chosen to leave the Cupid alone, Dean would have been on his way to becoming a Demon right now, it just doesn’t seem to sink in. Castiel can’t imagine the human he loves, turned in such a twisted and dark creature. A _knight of Hell_.

And the space between him and Dean, it has been excruciating to read all that. The small hints, the little indications that they should just go for it, but they kept on holding back because of the greater mission ahead of them.

“It’s strange, though, how in the end, you would just still end up right here,” Castiel comments then, finally looking Metatron right in the eye. The Angel in front of him glares at him, but then suddenly a smirk appears on his face.

“Or that could be where I’d _want_ to end up?” he says mysteriously. If there hadn’t been any bars between them, Castiel would have already driven his Angel blade inside Metatron’s head. He’s glad that this time neither Portia nor Bariel decided to join him. He shakes his head lightly and looks down.

“Well, it didn’t end up this way, so your story is useless.”

“Yeah, but did you at least cry while reading?”

Castiel did. Or at least, he almost did. When he thinks of all those emotions he felt while reading through those chapters Metatron wrote, the way he enjoyed pushing that blade in Dean’s heart, the way Sam cried while clutching his dead brother’s body in his arms.

The way Dean’s eyes turned black.

Castiel can’t find himself thinking about it again. He turns his head, quickly, and bites his lip to find any kind of distraction from the confusion going through all over his head. His eyes fall on Gadreel and Abner, again, and he remembers all he’s read about these two.

“I’ll make sure Thaddeus can’t take one more step inside this dungeon,” he tells the two Angels, still lifelessly sitting on the floor. Gadreel looks up for a moment, but Abner remains unmoving – again. For a moment, Gadreel seems surprised Castiel brings up Thaddeus, but after what he’s read, he can’t look at the broken Angel there without imagining all that torture as well.

“Oh, Castiel, you know you’re missing the announcements of the votes, right?” Metatron whines behind him. Castiel nods lightly. Right then, the door flies open. In surprise, Castiel sees Inias practically running inside, looking kind of spooked.

“Castiel!” he calls out. Immediately, Castiel pushes himself away from the wall and faces Inias.

“What is it?” he asks. Inias swallows loudly.

“Azrael won.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Liked it/hated it/suggestions/tips? Feel free to leave a comment, because that kind of keeps me going, to be extremely honest! ^^


	9. At least tell me you’re not Grace-pregnant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: mentions of mpreg, (or Gracepreg?), a badly written court-scene (I got all my information on that from 5 seasons of Ally McBeal), and even more badly written smut.  
> Apologies for the delay; I have a massive amount of school work and my driving-exam is tomorrow, so I've been kind of busy lately. Also, yeah, I changed Abner's storyline a little bit. Hope you don't mind.
> 
> This chapter is a little bit rushed, but that's because the story needs to move along! Sorry if that annoys anybody! :(

 

_Men of Letters, Headquarters_

 

When Dean wakes up, it’s more like he’s suddenly dropped from somewhere high, and when his eyes are open, he can still feel his heart beating wildly in his chest.

Immediately he gasps for breath, sitting up straight and taking in his familiar room inside the bunker. Everything seems to be standing in order; he must have had a bad dream he can’t remember right now.

But, with Cas around, he’s never had bad dreams. With a frown he turns towards the other side of the bed, finding it empty. The sheets are cold, too, so that must mean that the Angel must have gotten out of bed a little while ago.

It’s when he smells the scent of pancakes that he figures it out. With a smile, he throws the sheets off of him. The floor is cold when his feet touch the ground, so instead he goes for his slippers, which are located next to the bed.

Wait, what slippers?

Dean takes another look at his now-covered feet, finding that he’s indeed wearing goddamn slippers. Huh, must have been Cas or something, trying to do something good for Dean. He decides not to pay too much attention to it, though, instead slowly shuffling forward to the door. He pulls off the robe from a nearby chair, giving himself warmth in this strangely-cold room.

When he finds himself in the kitchen, he sees Castiel happily swinging his hips around with the music in the background, while still baking the deliciously-smelling pancakes he wants to taste right now! Still rubbing his eyes, Dean comes to stand behind Castiel and places his hands on the Angel’s hip, resting his head on his shoulder and hugging him from behind.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel greets him with a smile on his face. Dean just snuggles his face right against Cas’s and then presses a soft kiss on the Angel’s cheek. “I’m making you breakfast.”

“Yeah, what’s the occasion?” Dean asks, because so far Castiel has never made him breakfast. For a moment, though, the Angel looks a little hurt, as if Dean’s words aren’t the right one. Dean frowns in confusion.

“Dean, it’s our anniversary?” Castiel asks. That couldn’t be right, though, because when Dean fell asleep it was only March. March the fourth. Cas is just messing with him.

“Nahh, you’re joking,” Dean mutters, but just to be sure he walks towards the calendar they hung up on the wall, then noticing that it’s not the same one as he can remember. His eyes widen in surprise; especially when he sees the date.

_May 21 st, 2016._

What the hell?

“Cas, why are we in 2016?” Dean asks in confusion, wishing the Angel has an answer. Instead, Castiel just tilts his head in confusion. His mouth has dropped open a little bit as he thinks. When he smells the burning of the pancakes, though, he makes a quick hand gesture to stop the fire on the oven.

“Dean, we’ve always been in 2016,” Castiel tells him. “At least, since the new year, we have been?”

Oh God, please, not again. Not another lesson from the Angels, not another one where’s he’s suddenly confronted by his older self. But, he figures, Castiel doesn’t see a difference. The junky from 2014 had seen he wasn’t the same even without his Grace, but this Castiel doesn’t.

“Dean, what’s the last thing you remember?” Castiel holds out his hands gently towards Dean. It’s then that he notices the gold band around his left ring finger. Dean’s breath catches and he finds himself unable to speak. Especially when he lifts up his own hand to find the exact same ring.

“Are we married?” he whispers out.

“Yes, Dean,” Castiel explains. “You proposed to me at our one-year anniversary back in 2014. You don’t remember?”

Dean shakes his head multiple times as the thought sinks through. “It was the 4th of March 2014 when I fell asleep!”

Castiel lowers his hands again, and Dean doesn’t like that pained expression on his face. Weird or not, this is still his Angel – his _husband_ – in front of him. So, quickly, he walks forward to grab Castiel’s arms, and he presses their foreheads together.

“Hey,” Dean mutters at him, but the Angel doesn’t look at him, so he tries again. “ _Hey_.” Finally, their eyes meet. “Don’t worry, just fill me in, then we can try to find out why I lost such a big chunk in time, okay?”

Castiel nods lightly, and then they press their lips softly together. It’s just a short kiss, but it’s quickly followed with a strong hug. Inside, Dean is freaking out; he’s just made a massive jump in time, only to find himself married to Castiel. That doesn’t even sound like him; getting married the last thing he expects to even come to his mind. But, yet, here they are, apparently married for more than a year and a half, and Castiel cooks breakfast for him because they’re together now for three years.

“Dammit, I keep on ruining our anniversaries,” Dean mutters against Castiel’s hair. The Angel just chuckles lightly and gives him one last squeeze before letting to.

“Come on, I’ll tell you everything while you’re eating.” Castiel takes Dean by the arm and guides him to the table. The hunter doesn’t struggle against it, because he really wants to hear it.

So, apparently, they’ve slowed down on the hunting, only taking a couple of cases and passing the others on to younger and fitter hunters. Dean feels a little bitter on that part – mostly because he’s not _old_ – but hey, if they decided on this together, there must have been a reason.

Sam finally found himself a girl – Mia – since the last time Dean can remember. She’s a hunter as well and often joins them on their cases. From what Castiel has told him, she’s expecting their first child by now. It hadn’t been completely planned, Castiel explains, but they’re intending on raising this child properly, out of the hunting world. Dean could understand that, because he would do the same had he been in the same situation.

Dean and Castiel got married on the 7th of June. They had a quiet ceremony, only their friends had been invited – because who else would even be there? – and even though it had caused some disagreements on Heaven, Castiel had managed to take Dean upstairs to take a visit to his parents. Dean smiles as Castiel tells him everything. He can just imagine his mother crying when she sees him, pulling him in her arms and holding him tight. With his father it would have been a little more awkward, but he knows his old man would have been happy for him.

It’s already passed noon when Castiel is finished talking. By now, their hands are again entwined together, and Dean finds himself toying with Castiel’s ring. He likes it on the Angel, likes that indication that he’s his. Castiel watches him fondly as he keeps on turning the ring on his finger. They meet in another short kiss, but then Castiel stands up to clean up the dishes. Dean helps, drying off the plates while Castiel washes. It works perfectly, and afterwards they find themselves lying on the couch with Castiel draped all over Dean, face pressed against the hunter’s chest. Dean’s fingers go around Castiel’s hair, and he takes the remote from the table to start the TV. Castiel keeps quiet while they watch whatever movie is playing, and Dean appreciates it.

He could go with this. Of course, he would work hard on trying to regain his memories because this life he appears to have built for himself isn’t one he wants to let pass him by.

The movie is almost finished when Sam finally gets back into the bunker, carrying multiple boxes of pizza inside. The pair look up at the younger hunter, and Dean can feel his stomach grumble when he smells the food his brother brought along. His mouth is already watering.

“Heya, Sammy,” Dean greets him, deciding not to bother him with the truth of his memory loss. He pulls his brother in a hug, which Sam takes as a surprise at first, but then he slaps his hand on Dean’s back in return.

“Cas must have really treated you well today if you’re in such a good mood,” Sam mutters at him with a smirk.

“Shut up, bitch,” Dean throws back playfully. His brother offers him one last smile, and then he turns towards Castiel.

“Hey Cas, I found you that cradle you were looking for. It was really cheap in this store, so I just brought it along.” Sam nods towards the door, where another large box is resting against the wall. The Angel’s eyes light up all of the sudden, and he smiles. Dean just looks in confusion.

“Cradle? Aren’t _you_ the one with a pregnant girlfriend?” he asks, because it just doesn’t make any sense to him. Castiel’s happy face falls then all of the sudden.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” he mutters to himself. Dean sees how his hands travel to his stomach, which is something the Angel has never done before. “Dean, I’m pregnant.”

Dean stays silent while he waits for the punchline, for the small ‘ha, kidding’ that is sure to come. He eyes Sam carefully, finding his brother look equally surprised, but probably for another reason than Dean.

When neither of the two reveal that it’s a joke, Dean gives up.

“Okay, that’s just a low move, Cas. Not cool,” Dean tells his husband disapprovingly. Castiel takes a step forward to counter that accusation, but Dean just holds up his hands to silence him. “No, we had this discussion before about having kids, Cas, and you told me it wasn’t possible for you to carry a child even if you were in a female vessel.”

“But Dean, I told you that, with the connection of your soul and my Grace, I _could_ be able to carry a child; just not in the usual way humans think I can,” Castiel tries to defend himself. Dean gets angrier with every word spoken. This is just too low for Cas. Dean can still remember the Angel’s words that one dream. ‘ _Dean, even if I had been in a female vessel, I wouldn’t have been able to carry a child for you. Angels just can’t.’_ And Dean remembers that gigantic disappointment he felt when the words came through, their meaning clear in his head now. He remembers how much he wished Castiel were wrong, that they could find a loophole in it. But Castiel knows Angels better than Dean does, so that hope has never been high to begin with.

His doubts come back up; where is he? Why is he here? Why is Sam just standing there, looking as if he’s biting on a pine? Why is Cas still talking, trying to convince Dean?

Somehow, deep inside, he knows what this is. He’s been through this before, though that time it had taken him _that_ much longer to realize. With Sam, he’d been on a hunt, trying to find a monster that kidnapped four people in the last week. Dean remembers calling Cas shortly before going to bed, and then he just woke up here.

But what happened in between?

Dean squeezes his eyes shut while he thinks. He balls his fists, grits his teeth, hoping he’s wrong, that he’s just overreacting. Maybe this _is_ true, and he’s about to make the stupidest mistake in his life. If it’s the latter, then at least he knows Cas still has the juice to heal him before things get too bad.

So, after making a decision, Dean turns around, walking back towards the kitchen. Castiel grabs for him, willing him to get back, to stop his steps. Dean doesn’t listen, though. For all he knows, this person behind him _isn’t_ Cas.

When he finally grabs the knife in his hands he doesn’t intend to wait any longer. He lifts up the weapon, point towards himself, and makes the move to slam it back down. Before he can, though, he’s stopped by strong and soft hands, belonging to Castiel.

“Dammit Cas, let me go!” Dean shouts at the projection of the Angel in front of him. The Angel looks at him sadly, but doesn’t release his hold on Dean’s hand.

“You could have what you’ve been wanting for a while now here, Dean,” Castiel tries to reason with him. “Sam is happy, _we_ are happy. Don’t throw that away for the reality that can’t give you what you want.”

Dean feels his eyes tear up a little, because damn it, his Angel is right. For the last few months, all he could think about is having a little kid to call his own. Something he and Cas managed to create together, despite that meaning that he would have to slow down on the hunting.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying when a soft sob escapes his mouth. He can’t stay here, no matter how much he wants that little kid currently growing inside Castiel’s Grace. His _real_ Cas is somewhere in the real world, searching for him, worried about him. He can’t let the Angel who loves him suffer for his personal needs and longings.

Castiel finally lets go of Dean’s hand, thinking he’s got Dean persuaded. He moves forward a little to press another soft kiss on his lips, offering a smile at the hunter.

That’s when Dean plunges the knife in his stomach.

 

* * *

 

 

“ _Dean!”_

The sound is faint barely audible, but it’s clearly there. When Dean opens his eyes a little bit he can see the blurred figure of his brother standing on front of him. He can feel his brother’s big hands grab a hold of him in an attempt to wake him up further. Instead, Dean’s eyes close again from the exhaustion of his body.

_“Heyheyhey! Stay awake, buddy! Cas! I got him! Get the Djinn!”_

“Umpf,” Dean mumbles out. He aches all over, especially now that Sam is intent on keeping him moving. “Smmy.”

“It’s okay, Dean, I’m here,” Sam’s voice now clearly says. Dean can feel how his brother is trying to get him loose. Those damn Djinns always hang their victims in the most difficult position. There are tubes and needles pressing in his arms and in his neck. His hands are tied up together above his head tied in tight knots his brother is now trying to get undone.

Dean hears a loud beeping noise from a little further away, and he could probably be imagining the bright white light that comes with it, but soon enough he realizes that it’s Cas. He must have found that damn Djinn.

“Dean!” he then hears the Angel shout out. Without noticing it, Dean holds out his hands in the direction of the light, and when he sees Castiel come out of the corner a faint smile appears on his face. Castiel looks worried and angry at the same time. The moment his eyes land on Dean he starts to run towards him.

Sam has managed to detach him completely from the IV’s, now focusing on the other four victims hanging there in a similar way. They look even worse than Dean feels and that means something.

The moment Castiel has reached him, the Angel presses a hand on his cheek, and right away all his aches are gone. Sadly, his exhaustion isn’t, so keeping his eyes open completely is still a hard task. He entwines his fingers with Castiel’s against his cheek, noticing the lack of a ring pressing against his skin. He finds himself missing it already.

“At least tell me _you’re_ not Grace-pregnant,” Dean whispers out faintly. Castiel frowns at him.

“Dean, you know I can’t?” the Angel answers back, and that’s answer enough for Dean. He smiles again, but drops his hands, not keeping his eyes from closing. At least now he knows he’s in the right place. At least now he can sleep.

He doesn’t know how long he’s waiting in the dreamscape until Castiel comes to join him. Time moves differently in here, and he’s been keeping himself busy with fishing in the meantime. He feels Castiel’s present rather than sees it and, as if on instinct, he holds up his hand towards the Angel, waiting for him to come close.

Dean and Castiel haven’t been able to spend a lot of time together since Azrael got elected by the other Angels, busy trying to get the new leader to free Gadreel and Abner from their cells. From what Dean knows, he’s been keeping busy convincing them not to allow Thaddeus near them again, and so far, that’s the only thing they’ve granted.

Castiel comes to sit behind him, letting Dean sit back against him from between his legs. It’s just a random summer evening in his mind; no animals nearby, no wind, no indications of upcoming rain. It’s just a perfect setting.

“You scared me,” Castiel whispers against his neck.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Dean answers. He rests his head back against Castiel’s shoulder, allowing the Angel to wrap his arms around him in a hug. “Where are we now?”

“You’re back in the bunker. Sam’s returning with the car, but I flew us here to get you safe as quick as I could.”

“Hmm, aren’t you just my guardian Angel?” Dean mumbles quietly. He holds on to Castiel’s arms, rubbing the fabric of Castiel’s coat with his thumbs. He’s happy he’s here right now, and not stuck with an ancient mark on his arm, doomed to become a demon the minute he dies. It’s amazing how just _one_ little thing can make such a big difference.

“You know how I realized I was in the wrong world?” Dean then suddenly asks. Castiel shakes his head, which Dean can feel behind him. “You were pregnant. Or your Grace was, at least. That was when I knew.”

“Dean,” Castiel begins, but Dean stops him.

“Can we just not talk about it? I already know we can’t, doesn’t mean that there isn’t a part of me that doesn’t still longs for it, okay? Now I just want us to sit here so I can actually _feel_ like I’ve been sleeping the whole remainder of the night.”

Dean feels Castiel’s lips on the back of his head, pressing a soft kiss, and then there are whispered words against the back of his head.

“Okay, Dean.”                               

  

* * *

 

 

_Heaven_

_March 27 th _

 

Somehow, Castiel finds himself nervous. It’s been more than three human month’s since Azrael’s win, and with her on the ‘throne’ Heaven seems to be rebuilding extremely well (even though Castiel feels just a little bit reluctant to admit it). Since he’d missed the whole ceremony because he was talking with Metatron, Inias had to update him on the details.

Kokabiel had come in third place, followed by Ezekiel on second place. In the end, it’s even closer than Castiel had even expected when they began running for candidate in the first place. And Azrael winning hasn’t really been something extremely surprising to any of them, least of all to her.

That must be why she’s actually so good at this; sitting in her _office_ , listening to Castiel and his reasons every day. He hates every minute spend with her; she listens, but more often than not she doesn’t respond at all. That could be the reason why it’s taking so long for him to finally get what he wants.

Today, that seems to be the day.

“All right, Castiel, if you _really_ want to open up a _case_ on Gadreel and Abner, you have my permission. The private talk you wanted will be granted to you. Portia will help you further.”

It’s short, and obviously dismissive, but at least it’s something. For weeks now he’s been trying to convince his new leader to give him some time alone with the two prisoners to get their side of the story without anybody else having the chance to meddle in the conversation. He’s been visiting the prison regularly, trying to get anything out of Gadreel or Abner but sadly, both Angels seem unwilling to talk at the moment.

At least now he has permission to take the two to another place – obviously they will be bound by handcuffs made of the same metal their Angel swords are made of, but it’s at least a lot better than a prison cell right next to Metatron.

After some more grumbling by Portia, Castiel is finally allowed inside the room where both Gadreel and Abner are finding themselves. It’s saddening how scared they look, as if they’re expecting another torture setting from Thaddeus. Gadreel seems to relax a little bit when he sees Castiel, though.

“Hello, Gadreel,” Castiel greets the Angel shortly. Dean has warned him that he could scare the Angel off by talking too much, se he decides to keep it short.

“Castiel,” Gadreel tells him in return, taking a human form to make communicating easier. It’s the first time Castiel has heard his voice for real, which is why he’s so surprised Gadreel sounds so calm. Gadreel keeps his head up in some strange way of defense, hands balled into fists. He’s standing in front of Abner, as if he’s trying to act as a shield.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you, brother,” Castiel says with a hand raised. Gadreel visibly relaxes, though Abner keeps on standing hunched forward. Slowly, though, the Angel is taking on a human image as well.

“What is it you wish to talk about?”

“I want to know what happened that day, in the garden.”

Gadreel and Abner share a quick look at each other. The two are standing closely to each other, almost like how close Castiel stands next to Dean most of the times. For a moment, the two Angels, now both in the figure of two men, stay quiet. Then, Abner turns around to walk to the other side of the room. Gadreel sits down instead. Castiel follows.

“You must be aware that most Angels did _not_ understand this story I’m about to tell you,” Gadreel warns him. Abner huffs right next to him, to which Gadreel in turn looks annoyed at. With his cuffed hands, Abner lifts up his arms in defeat. Where Dean would have been grinning, Abner only looks defeated.

“You will find that I’m not like other Angels,” Castiel counters. Gadreel smirks lightly, but his face falls grim right away again.

“Abner and I were selected to become the garden’s guardians by our Father Himself,” Gadreel starts explaining. He looks right ahead of him, as if he’s reliving every bit he’s about to tell. “As you know, the garden was indescribably beautiful, the _right_ representation of Paradise. Nothing could compare.

“We guarded it day in, day out, and when our Father created the human he told us to protect them, to love them, to try and learn from them. So we did, though we never showed ourselves to them _really_. We kept on a distance because they were not to be made aware of our presence.

“We watched together how those two human beings started to develop feelings for each other. We did not recognize those feelings because Angels were not – _are_ not meant to have them. We weren’t given that kind of free will because it’s our task to follow orders. And follow them, we did.

“While still trying to guard the garden, Abner and I started to mimic the humans. We _learned_ from them, like our Father told us to do. But with that, we became _dependent_ on each other.”

Castiel nods lightly. “You felt another kind of love towards one another,” he paraphrases to see if he got that correctly. Gadreel looks down in embarrassment and nods. Abner doesn’t react at all except for tightening his hands into fists.

“Our Brother, Lucifer, found out. He had only just started to rebel against our Father back then, unaccepting of the fact that the humans were to be loved more than we were ourselves. He didn’t want the humans to be allowed in Eden, so one day while I was on my post, he grabbed me and threatened to kill me. Abner tried to talk him out of it. It was while we were distracted that he let the snake enter without our noticing. When we _did_ find out, it was already too late.”

Castiel doesn’t really know what to say anymore. He knows what happens next in the story; Gadreel and Abner were charged for treason against their Father, sentenced to an eternity in Heaven’s deepest dungeon. Some group of Angels appeared to have decided that it’s alright to start torturing the two, Abner more than Gadreel apparently – at least, according to the scars all over Abner’s Grace.

“I am not sure why you do not remember this, Castiel. You were right there as well, just another figure in the background. How is it that now you have had a change of heart?”

Why indeed? Somehow, it’s all a vague memory in Castiel’s mind. He can’t recall ever seeing Gadreel before he passed that cell, but according to the Angel in front of him, he had been present. Of course, it was such a long time ago, and so many new things have happened. He might have an eternal memory, but even for Angels some of them might get a little vague in details.

“I observed, I learned, and then I loved,” Castiel explained without any further explanation. In his mind, Dean’s happy face comes in front of him, smile even wider than Castiel has ever seen before.

“ _You_ developed feelings for another being?” Gadreel asks in surprise. “Last I remember from you, you were just like the other Angels, quick to condemn us after Lucifer tricked us. You must understand I’m a little suspicious about it.”

“And you have every right to be, brother,” Castiel agrees; Now, Abner has turned back towards them to observe them while they speak. The Angel doesn’t speak, though. His face is hardened, jaw clamped shut as if he’s trying to keep himself from talking.

“I’m working on a way to convince Azrael to release the two of you. Strictly speaking, the only guilty one has already been locked up twice by now. If the other Angels would hear the true story there won’t be any more reason to keep you here.”

Now Abner huffs disbelievingly. From where he’s seated, Castiel can see the Angel roll his eyes and cross his arms. Gadreel eyes both of them in silence.

“And how do you think _we_ will be able to let the other Angels believe us?” Abner asks bitingly. “Angels don’t understand love, they will only see the abomination that we are; two broken Angels, developing feelings we’re not supposed to have.”

“But they _can_ understand, Abner,” Castiel speaks up. Then he points at himself. “I was just like them, yet _I_ understood after spending enough time with the humans myself.”

“Oh yeah, great idea! Let’s just suggest all the Angels hang around with humans, see what they can learn!”

Gadreel slams the table in full force, causing it to break under his hands. The other two look back to him startled, surprised at his sudden outburst. For a few seconds, Gadreel and Abner’s eyes meet. Castiel can almost see the discussion they have with just looking at each other. It’s one he has with Dean most of the time. He _could_ join in on the conversation by reading their minds, but he’s not going to. Spending all that time with humans has taught him that people need their privacy. He figures Angel’s do too.

Sometimes, that privacy can get really annoying. For instance, the fact that Dean won’t tell him what exactly happened to him in that djinn-made life bothers him really hard, and more than once he’s thought about just reading his mind while he wanders off again in his thoughts. A better part of him stops him every time, though. If Dean doesn’t want to share it, who is Castiel to disrespect that wish?

He gets pulled out of his thoughts by Gadreel. The Angel looks at him with a serious face, though Castiel can see that he’s kind of worried as well. Abner just looks annoyed again, which Castiel can understand. He would be bitter too, and trusting others would be a difficult task as well.

“Just, say that you _would_ convince the other Angels to let us out; why do you think the two of us will just stay around to teach Heaven how to love?” Gadreel asks cautiously. For a moment, Castiel’s mind is blank. He has no idea how he’s going to do this, he just knows he _has_ to.

“You’re free to go where-ever you want to go,” Castiel answers. “If you want to go to Earth, my friends and I can help you get settled, so you can live a normal human-like life.”

Gadreel and Abner share a thoughtful look.

“ _Why_ are you helping us?” Abner asks, walking forward towards the other two. He sits himself down on the chair in front of Castiel’s and next to Gadreel’s. Castiel doesn’t miss how Gadreel leans more towards Abner the moment he’s seated. It’s subtle, but if you know what to look for you can’t _not_ see it.

“Our minds connected that day when Metatron gave me his story.” He nods towards Gadreel, whose eyes open. “I felt your pain, your regret, and another feeling I thought I was mistaking about.”

Castiel licks his lips quickly and looks down. His fingers are fumbling with each other, and all of the sudden he longs to be back with Dean. It’s already two days further back on Earth, and his hunter is working another case Castiel wishes to help with.

“That _love_ you feel towards Abner?” Castiel then nods towards the Angel he’s mentioned. “I know how that kind of love feels. And I know you would do _everything_ for each other, just like I would do everything for Dean.”

“I never heard of an Angel called Dean?” Abner asks in surprise. Gadreel seems to have caught on, though. Probably because he’s been listening to Castiel and Metatron argue while sitting in his cell.

“He’s human,” Gadreel reveals calmly. Abner’s eyes widen, and even more when Castiel nods the affirmative. “You _do_ know one day he’s going to die, right?”

Castiel’s heart aches a little bit when the words sink through. He knows Dean is mortal, that he’s going to grow old while Castiel stays the same. And that one day, his time will come and a Reaper – or Death himself – will come to get him.

“And when that time comes, I will join him here in Heaven,” Castiel finally admits.

 

* * *

 

 

_City Hall, New York City_

_April, 15 th _

 

Dean can’t believe he’s doing this. He just _can’t_. His palms are already sweaty from the nerves, and his heartrate is going faster than should be allowed. He can’t stop pacing around the room while he waits, and with every sound he hears he looks up in surprise.

He knows Cas won’t come to Earth anytime soon, unless he specifically prays for him to come down, which he won’t right now. His Angel is busy playing lawyer for two Angel’s he’s never met before, and he’s building up a strong case to present to this Azrael-chick who is then to determine whether the two are released or not.

Dean thinks it’s endearing that Cas cares so much about it. He’s been made aware of everything; how Gadreel and Abner fell in love despite that not being a possibility in their programming, how Lucifer tricked them by using Gadreel to get to Abner.

That’s the bad thing about love; they can be used against you. You can be forced to do something awful to save the one you love. That’s why Dean never wanted to love anymore; they’ve used Sammy so many times, but also Lisa when Crowley took her away. It had been that day that Dean decided not to let love get to him again. 

Yet here he’s finding himself again, at the verge of making what could probably be the most stupid decision in his whole life. That’s why his hands are shaking. That’s why he just can’t stay still.

No, this is the right thing to do. It’s the only thing he can think of. At this point, there’s nothing he finds himself wanting more.

His muscles are still sore from his last hunt, from which he has only just returned yesterday. The ghost they hunted took pleasure in throwing him around like a tennis ball and his whole side is bruised. He knows that if he calls Cas up, the Angel will come and heal him in just mere seconds, but he knows he has to do this thing first.

It has taken him some time to find this person. It took phone calls to multiple hunters who _aren’t_ opposed to helping the Winchesters – yeah, they still started the apocalypse all those years back – and after he finally got a name all he did was drive to where he’s now.

“Mr. Smith?” a woman suddenly calls out. She should probably be weirded out by the tall and rough man pacing around her waiting room all the time, but her face is completely calm and gentle. Dean looks up at her, only remembering right on time that He gave her a fake name.

“Mr. Michaels will see you now,” the woman finally reveals. She puts up a small smile on her face and nods towards the door she’s just come through. Dean swallows and closes his eyes for one second. _Okay, you can do this_ , he reassures himself. It’s the first step to get what he wants.

Upon entering the office, Dean sees the man he’s meeting seated at his desk. The guy is balding with a few gray hairs on his head. He looks bored, in Dean’s opinion. He didn’t even look up when he walked in!

“Hello, Mr. Winchester, please be seated,” the man suggests, pointing his hand towards the chair in front of his desk. He’s glad the assistant already left before Mr. Michaels spoke out his real name. Of course the man knows, they set up this meeting together in the first place.

Dean takes a closer look at the desk he’s seated in front of. The wood seems strong and healthy, but the color doesn’t seem to fit the rest of the room; the walls are a soft shade of green, but the desk itself is such a reddish-brown color, and the colors just don’t match.

After Dean is seated, he expects to be spoken to immediately. To his surprise, he isn’t, though. Mr. Michaels continues typing something on his computer, seeming to have completely forgotten that Dean is there. For a moment, Dean contemplates scraping his throat to get attention, but he’s about to ask this man for a favor. He shouldn’t do things to piss the man off. So instead he looks down, pressing his hands together and tangling his fingers.

After what feels like an hour but are only about two minutes, Mr. Michaels looks up and pushes his keyboard to the side. His face is blunt, still looking bored. Dean could agree that working behind a desk every day could be extremely boring.

“Now I understand you need some papers?” Michaels asks. He holds his hands up and rests his head atop of them. His brown eyes look closely at Dean from behind his glasses.

“Yes,” Dean calls out. He already reaches for his pocket where he’s put away the picture he brought along. Michaels watches as he moves, raising his eyebrows a little when he sees the person on the photo.

“Another hunter giving up on the hunting life?” Michaels asks, taking the picture from the table to look at it. Dean doesn’t like the way he inspects the little photo. With his right hand, Michaels reaches to the mouse of his computer, probably opening up the program he needs for this task.

“Something like that, yes,” Dean says. He shouldn’t give the exact truth because the man won’t understand. He himself doesn’t understand it completely. He just feels like he needs to do this.

“I’m going to need some background information I can put on his profile,” Michaels tells him with a raised eyebrow. Dean nods lightly.

“Eh, you can put as birth date the 18th of September, 1977,” Dean says, thinking back of the first time they met in that barn. How many people can say they stabbed their partner on their first encounter?

“Parents deceased?”

“Yes, both of them.”

Michaels types a few things. “Your buddy will go by the surname of Wilson, then. His parents will be a recently deceased couple that never had children. With a few modifications I can add him as an unnamed child.”

Dean nods, not really liking the surname on his Angel. But, if everything goes according to plan, he won’t be keeping that name for long.

“I still need a first name, though,” Michaels asks dryly while still typing words down. Dean licks his lips, considering ‘Cas’ to keep it simple. But right at the moment that he starts to talk, Castiel’s full name comes out of his lips. Michaels raises his eyebrows again, silently mocking the name. Dean glares at him, so the man just raises his hands lightly in surrender. He continues typing.

“Education?”

“Doctorate in religious studies.” It’s only logical, right? The guy is an Angel, he knows everything about every religion, as far as Dean knows. Michaels doesn’t show any reaction to it, though.

The man keeps on asking him question after question to complete the profile and then promises him that the papers will be finished by Friday. They say goodbye without even a handshake, and then Dean is out, leaving that office. Jeesh, that guy seems to have an even bigger stick up his ass than most Angels have.

Halfway through his 21-hour drive home, Dean makes a quick stop at a motel to catch up on some sleep. He makes a phone call with Sam, keeping him updated with his progress. He remembers his brother’s reaction when he revealed what he’s planning to do. At first he didn’t want to tell him, but then one day it just came out of his mouth and then he had his brother’s arms around him wrapped in a tight hug. It was also Sam who suggested that Cas would need an identification to have this thing happen officially – Dean _wants_ it officially, that’s the only reason he agreed to go through with this.

After his phone call he makes another quick prayer to Cas, just to let him know where he is. After that, he goes towards the bed where he just dropped his duffle bag. He could use a good shower and then a good night’s rest, because there are still a few more hours to drive before he’s back in Lebanon.

He makes his way to the bathroom, glad to see that there are towels and all sorts of soaps at his disposal. Without any further thought, he starts undressing. First he takes off his shoes, throwing them a little further away to start on the belt.

“Hello, Dean,” suddenly comes out from behind him. Dean turns around in surprise, breathing out heavily to get over his shock.

“Dammit Cas, just don’t _do_ that!” He mutters against his hand, keeping his eyes closed to concentrate on slowing his heart down. Then he reaches out his other arm, smiling slightly when Castiel walks forward.

“Apologies,” Castiel says lowly, but then he comes to stand right against Dean, and the hunter finally warps his arms around the Angel to hold him in a hug.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, bud,” Dean tells him. Then he pulls back slightly, smiling. “I was going to take a shower, but now that you’re here, I’m thinking more of taking a bath. What do you think?”

Another smile crawls up on Castiel’s face, and without any answer he takes off his coat and drops it to the floor. Dean takes that as his cue to continue undressing as well. He turns off the shower and instead leans forward to turn the knob and get the bathwater to fill. He doesn’t bother to wait until it’s warm; his Angel will take care of that.

“Are we just going to bathe, Dean, or are we going to make love?” Castiel suddenly asks when he’s only wearing his underwear. Dean’s eyebrow raises up, but he can’t help the smirk on his face. He loves how Castiel can be so blunt about all those things, like he’s forgetting to be ashamed about it.

“We can do whatever you want, babe,” Dean tells him. Castiel smiles again and then suddenly walks out of the bathroom after taking off his last piece of clothing. Dean can’t help himself from staring at that ass, enjoying the view every time again and again. He will probably never get enough of his Angel.

“Hey Cas, when you’re back, you mind warming up the water?” Dean shouts out to his partner, who grunts in agreement. Dean is busy pulling his shirt over his head when Castiel returns, and when he’s finally naked as well, he can already see Cas seated in the tub, staring at Dean with wide eyes.

“Like what you see?” Dean asks jokingly.

“Yes,” Castiel deadpans. “Now get in here.” Dean couldn’t possibly deny his Angel, so he dips his first foot in the water, feeling it’s warm enough for him. Just in a matter of seconds, he’s seated down in the tub, letting the water pass all over his body. He motions for Cas to turn around, and the Angel does, turning his back towards Dean. Then Dean pulls at his shoulder to get him closer, until Cas is leaning against Dean, head resting against his shoulder. His hands work slowly on massaging his arms and chest, pressing small kisses against his cheek and the top of his head.

“It’s good to have a little us-time again,” Dean mumbles against the Angel’s skin. The fact is, since Dean is almost constantly travelling with his brother, he and Cas don’t get to do this a lot together; just being together, without the possibility of his brother just barging in with information on whichever hunt they’re on. No, Sam is in the bunker right now – with a little common cold as well, otherwise he would have come along on this trip to New York. No, the giant is currently being cooed over by Mrs. Tran, probably receiving bowls of soup in different flavors.

“We’ve both been really busy,” Castiel agrees, allowing Dean to tangle their fingers together. He breathes out a relaxing breath, closing his eyes and just trying to focus on the feel of Castiel pressed against him.

“How’s it going with the case upstairs?” Dean asks after a moment. Castiel sighs loudly and shakes his head lightly.

“So far I don’t seem to get through to them,” Castiel explains, sounding disappointed. “They seem to agree now that it is apparently _indeed_ possible that Angels can fall in love – us three are the proof of that by now. They just don’t want to ruin their pride by agreeing they’ve wrongfully thrown two Angels – only guilty of falling in love – into a cell for millennia.”

Then Castiel turns around so that his chest is pressing against Dean’s. He wraps his arms around Dean’s shoulders and rests his face right next to Dean’s neck, leaving soft kisses on the skin there. Dean takes that opportunity to massage his back – something that _can_ actually make Castiel moan.

Just like he’s expected, the Angel gasps out in glee when Dean’s fingers put pressure on where he remembers the wings coming out. Castiel’s skin is already glowing a little, his light blue illuminating the room even more.

Then, suddenly, the lights are out, leaving them in a darkened room only illuminated by Castiel’s glowing. Dean isn’t surprised anymore because that’s how Castiel usually likes it. The Angel lifts his face up to look into Dean’s eyes, and the hunter caresses his cheeks with his thumbs. He leans forward do press a soft kiss on his lips, and Castiel returns it, deepening into it right away.

Then, suddenly, Castiel pulls back again, looking at Dean with lustful eyes. His mouth is slightly open, his tongue slowly going over his lower lip, which makes Dean feel all warm inside. He presses his hands against Castiel’s face again to steal another kiss.

“Hmm, Dean,” Castiel then suddenly mutters, and Dean then lets go of his face to rest his hands on the Angel’s shoulder instead. “Will you make love to me now?”

Dean can’t resist rolling his eyes again because of his Angel’s bluntness. He can feel his cheeks coloring red, and looks to the side. He starts biting on his lower lip while he tries to keep himself from laughing again.

“You’re such a dork,” Dean then tells him. Then he looks back at Castiel and smiles at him. “Go for it, babe.”

Castiel smiles as well, then. He reaches to his side, grabbing something Dean can’t see, but he can pretty much guess what it is. He just lets Cas do his thing, instead pressing soft kisses on his Angel’s shoulders and in his neck, while Cas reaches behind himself. Dean loves the small gasps that come out of his mouth when he puts more pressure on his back. The light glows a little brighter every time he does that.

It’s kind of difficult to move in the bathtub, and more often than not the two apologize to each other for bumping into each other. Their lips meet again after a while, and they don’t let go until Dean feels a change of scenery. He pulls back in surprise, finding himself on his back on the bed – still dripping wet. Castiel is sitting on top of him, legs straddling his hips. He’s slowly rocking back and forth, lips searching for Dean’s again.

“Dude, we’re getting the bed all wet,” Dean complains in between kisses, unable to stop the low moans that come out from Castiel’s moving. The Angel growls then, snapping his fingers once to dry the both of them instantly. Then he claims Dean’s mouth again, pushing his tongue inside the hunter’s mouth.

Dean’s eyes fly open when Castiel starts to sink down on him, having apparently prepared himself enough to make it an easy slide. Dean’s breath seems to be pushed out of his lungs, and Castiel too grits his teeth and makes noises of pleasure. His face relaxes again when Dean’s completely inside, but he doesn’t move right away, instead leaning forward again. He’s resting on his elbows to keep himself up, but his face is just millimeters away from Dean’s.

“Dean, I love you _and_ your penis,” Castiel mutters against his lips, and Dean can’t hold the laugh that comes out of his mouth. He presses the back of his arm against his eyes and turns his head away, unable to stop the chuckling. Castiel’s confused face makes it even better, and now he’s laughing hysterically. His stomach starts to hurt from it, and there are tears forming in his eyes.

“Dean, are you alright?” Castiel asks worriedly. Dean nods wildly, biting his lips to remain calm. Castiel is still unmoving above him.

“Yeah, man, sorry. I just love the way you talk sometimes,” Dean explains in a grumble, still smiling the entire time. Castiel’s eyes soften, and he leans forward to kiss Dean again.

“I love you, Dean Winchester,” Castiel tells him fondly. Dean looks up at him, taking a deep breath now that he’s calmed down. Then he reaches out his hand again to rest them on the Angel’s cheek, and he forms a light smile.

“And I need you,” Dean returns. It’s not his usual answer of ‘I know’, but it doesn’t make it any less true. He needs Cas in his life, because next to Sam, he’s the only one that can make Dean a better person. They then kiss one more time. “I also need you to move before my dick will stay like this permanently.”

Castiel chuckles. “I wouldn’t mind that,” he tells him, but at last he starts to move his hips up and down. A soft ‘oh’ comes out of Dean, and he can’t help but throw his head back on the pillow, letting Castiel do the moving.

It’s slow, it’s calm, and it’s quiet. All Dean does is breathe a little louder than normal, biting his lips to keep himself from screaming it out; he doesn’t want to make trouble with the neighbors. His hands travel up and down on Castiel’s back, waiting for the wings to come out. Castiel presses his forehead against Dean’s shoulder, suddenly grunting in time with his moves.

Castiel’s glowing gets harder and harder again, almost blinding Dean with its brilliance. The hunter keeps his eyes closed because of that, letting his other senses do the rest of the work. The fact that all his feelings are multiplied makes that his heart is already racing faster than it should normally be.

Dean feels a hand pressing against the handprint on his shoulder. He knows that means Castiel is getting closer to his peak. Slightly, Dean opens his eyes again, trying to adjust to the bright light he sees in front of him. He smiles when he sees the wings finally appear; the snow-white feathers making the glow even stronger. Without any hesitation, Dean reaches out for the wings – which he has done every time they’ve done this.

The moment they make contact, Castiel screams it out – so does Dean. His handprint heats up and sends waves of warmth all over his body while he lets that strong feeling of relief pass all over him. Above him, Castiel has thrown his head back, face pointed towards the ceiling in his bliss.

In normal circumstances, this feeling would have been over already. With Castiel, though, it lasts that much longer. The warmth finally reaches his stomach, where Dean’s soul should be located according to Castiel. Dean can feel the Angel’s Grace embracing his own soul, promising him protection and eternal devotion. Dean can’t help but smile again.

Later that night, when they’re lying next to each other, Dean is sure that his decision is made.

He’s going to ask Cas to marry him.

 

 

 

* * *

 

_Heaven, April 30 th _

 

“Gadreel and Abner, charged with treason thousands of years ago, case represented by Castiel.”

Castiel looks up as his name is called out. He finds Azrael sitting in the judge chair, looking as stoic and heartless as always. Next to him, Abner and Gadreel are seated; both of them with their hands bound. Multiple guarding Angels are surrounding them with their Angel swords in the ready. At the jury’s section, Castiel can recognize Naomi and Kokabiel, apparently writing something down – though Castiel can’t figure out _why_ they would do that.

“Castiel, you have come before us in an attempt to convince us to free Abner and Gadreel from jail, is that correct?”

“That is correct,” Castiel answers after standing up. He keeps his hands behind his back. He doesn’t really have a clue what he’s doing; he’s never been anything close to a lawyer. This is even the first case they’ve ever done in Heaven, and that’s only because Castiel managed to plant the idea in Azrael’s head with the line ‘ _they should at least receive a fair trial before you condemn them for an eternity in prison’_.

After learning that he was representing the case, he’s met up with Sam multiple times to get at least to the basic of the law. He knows it can’t really compare, because Angel laws are that much different that human laws, and Azrael could just as well make up new laws as she goes now that she’s the rightful leader of Heaven.

“You have permission to speak,” Azrael says with a short hand-gesture. Castiel nods at her, casts one short look at Abner and Gadreel, and then walks forward, thinking back of what he rehearsed with Sam for the last month.

“I have called up this case because I find it unjust that these two Angels, already punished for thousands of years, are sentenced with only more years to go, only for the ‘crime’ of love.”

A few surprised gasps come out of the whole courtroom, and a few Angels start muttering to each other. They’ve kept the information of Gadreel and Abner’s relationship a secret from the beginning because with enough time they might as well find something against that. Castiel is surprised that even Azrael’s eyes have widened, because so far that’s the only emotion he’s ever seen on her face.

After Azrael orders the crowd to keep it quiet, Castiel continues. “Gadreel and Abner were put together as guards of the Garden of Eden by order of our Father, who told them to learn from the humans, to observe them. And so they did.”

He looks back at Abner and Gadreel, who nod lightly in agreement. Then, he turns back towards the jury with his hands clasped together.

“They guarded the garden obediently; never allowed _anything_ in, never allowed anything out. They also took our Father’s order to observe at heart, watching how the two humans, for us known as Adam and Eve, interacted with each other. In other words, they watched as the two fell in love with each other.”

Castiel pauses a little bit to let that information sink in.

“Now back then, the concept of _love_ was completely foreign to Angels. You all know the only love we knew was the love for our Father. Yet, He told Abner and Gadreel to _observe_ and learn. They did so, developing the same feelings the humans have; they fell in love with each other.”

At that, Castiel points towards the two Angels in question. Everybody in the room remains quiet but stares at the two in shock and surprise – some of them even in curiosity. Those are the Angels Castiel still has hope for.

“Despite their feelings for each other, they continued to guard the Garden, but somehow, our brother The Morningstar found out about the two. It was before Lucifer was cast out from Heaven. He didn’t think the humans deserved to be in Eden, and wanted them out. He used Gadreel against Abner as a distraction, using that fraction of a second to allow the snake in.”

“How _dare_ you bring Lucifer in this ridiculous case?!” a voice in the crowd calls out, but Azrael shuts him up with a single wave of her hands, closing the Angel’s mouth. Castiel flinches a little at the complaint, but he figures he’s telling the truth so there isn’t any shame.

“Lucifer _did_ trick them, using their love for each other to get what he wanted. _That’s_ Abner and Gadreel’s only crime!”

“All right, that’s enough Castiel,” Azrael tells him then, motioning for him to be seated again. From the other stand, another Angel gets up, straightening the clothes of her vessel before coming forward. Her name is Josiel, and the vessel she’s currently occupying is that of a young woman with dark blonde hair. She’s wearing formal clothing; a dark vest and a dark skirt. Her high heels clack loudly on the ground as she walks forward.

“I would like to call up Abner to the stands,” Josiel tells Azrael, and the Angel agrees. Abner stands up immediately, waits until the guards undo the chains attached to his legs, and then he walks forward. Castiel and Gadreel watch how he sits down, pledging complete honesty in the name of their Father and of their new leader.

“Now, Abner, is it true that you and Gadreel received the order to guard the Garden of Eden?” Josiel asks.

“Yes.”

“And is it true that you developed feelings Angel’s never developed for Gadreel during your task?”

“Yes.”

“Are you aware that, while our Father told you to observe the humans, and to learn from them, it wasn’t your mission to act out on what you learned right on the spot?”

“I am aware, Josiel, but with all due respect; if you would ever have experienced these feelings that I have, you would know that these are things you _can’t_ control.” Abner keeps his head up, and there’s not even a single thing that would indicate a smile on his face. Castiel nods at him to tell him that he’s right.

“None of the Angels have experienced these feelings before, so no, Abner, we do not understand. And we probably would never understand, because Angels are not meant to fall in love.”

“Yet one other Angel walked amongst humans long enough to fall in love as well,” Abner counters dryly. They agreed that he would bring that up, because they suspected that remark from whatever Angel that would stand against him. This idea came to mind when Castiel figured out there are _many_ Angels that _don’t_ know about his relationship with Dean.

He can see multiple Angels already looking at him, but so far, Josiel remains clueless, even appearing surprised at his answer.

“And if I would call _that_ Angel to the stands, would they be present?” Josiel asks at nobody in particular. Castiel takes that as his cue to stand up. All eyes are now pointed towards him, but he doesn’t care.

“If that’s what you wish, I will come to the stands, Josiel, when you’ve finished your questioning?”

Josiel looks a little wide-eyed from her surprise. Castiel figures that now every Angel of Heaven will know about him and Dean.

“Eh, that is what I wish,” Josiel mutters out, motioning towards the guards to take Abner away again – that was probably the shortest version of questioning ever. Instead, Castiel walks around his desk and forward to the stands, pledging complete honesty the same way Abner had before his questioning.

“Tell us who you are,” Josiel says when Castiel is finally seated.

“My name is Castiel, I’m the Angel of Thursay. My human identification is Castiel Wilson since the 18th of April 2014.”

“Would you like to clarify ‘human identification’?”

“That is the name I go by during my time on Earth,” Castiel answers. “It is the name Dean Winchester provided for me.”

“And Dean Winchester is…?”

“Dean Winchester is my partner, the man I love.”

Josiel remains quiet, and so does the whole courtroom. Azrael watches curiously as the whole event progresses. It’s like everything Josiel has wanted to use against Castiel has suddenly left her mind. She throws a worried glance towards the jury, who just raise their eyebrows at her. Castiel doesn’t know about the other members of the jury, but Naomi and Kokabiel already knew about the relationship.

Eventually, Josiel seems to have found her direction again.

“Am I mistaking when I say that rescuing Dean Winchester from Hell was a mission you were a part of?”

“You are not mistaking.”

“And am I correct to assume that all your previous rebellion was _because_ of Dean Winchester?”

Castiel looks down before answering. “There is a lot that I would do for Dean Winchester. He’s the man that I love, the man that has accepted me in the times that my own home didn’t. Is it wrong to assume that I found a family in the Winchesters when my own family didn’t want me anymore?”

“And how did it come were so misunderstood in Heaven, Castiel?” Josiel asks, though she knows the answer. Everybody knows it. It’s also the reason why he’s been having a difficult time feeling welcome back here again.

“Because I made the wrong decisions in an attempt to save Heaven from Raphael,” Castiel says, feeling the shame all over again when he thinks of that deal he’s made with Crowley.

“And would you say that your judgement was clouded because of your love for Dean Winchester?”

Castiel shakes his head. “I would say more that pride clouded my judgement. I believed I could fix Heaven by becoming the new God, but the amount of souls corrupted me, changed me into a creature I never want to turn into again. It was only with the love I share with Dean that I managed to resurface again and return the souls back into Purgatory.”

“And were you, or were you not, in league with Metatron for a short time; planning on closing the gates of Heaven?”

Castiel bites his lip at the memory. “I was ready to give up my love for Dean to give Heaven a second chance. It was with the help of a Cupid, Gail, that I realized that it was not my choice to make, not my burden to carry alone.”

“I have no more questions,” Josiel suddenly says. Castiel can’t figure out if she’s disappointed in any way, or if this is actually going according to her plan. All he knows is that he has not even a single clue of what he’s doing. He’s not meant to be a lawyer in any way, and even all of Sam’s help wouldn’t improve anything here because everything is so different in Heaven.

Castiel is instructed to return back to his seat, and after that it’s his turn to ask the two charged to the stands. He asks them the questions they agreed to, and when they’re done, the jury seems to be in a heated discussion. After both he and Josiel give their closing plea, they leave to room to reach a verdict, but somehow, Castiel isn’t feeling all that hopeful about it all. He has no idea how to be a good lawyer. He’s probably just made it worse for the two, like he’s always done before.

Abner and Gadreel are put back behind bars for the time remaining. Castiel is contemplating between returning home or stay here in Heaven, but in the end, he decides to stay. It’s already a day further on Earth, but so far Dean hasn’t called for his help in any way.

He’s given the brothers the instruction to call for Hannah or Inias if they would ever get into trouble, so that could also be the reason why he hasn’t heard anything. He just hopes the two are not going to get themselves killed, because Castiel doesn’t know how many times he can go against Death’s orders.

Another earth-day passes, making it the second of May – a day Castiel recognizes as Sam’s birthday. He thinks about returning to Earth for a short time to congratulate the hunter, but right before he can leave he gets the message that the jury have come to a verdict.

He makes a mental promise to visit Sam the moment this is over, and makes his way back to the courthouse. Abner and Gadreel are already seated on their seats, still bound like before. Castiel greets them with a short nod, and they return it.

“Order!” Azrael shouts out over all the noise from the crowd, and quickly everybody falls silent. Castiel is impressed by it. He shoots one quick look at Josiel, who stares at him as well. She doesn’t seem hostile in anyway, but she’s obviously self-assured of her case.

“Jury, have you come to a verdict?” Azrael asks the moment there’s no more sound. It’s Naomi who rises with a paper in her hand.

“We do,” she says.

“And what might that be?”

“For the case of liberating the Angels Gadreel and Abner we have found the two charged not guilty.”

Abner and Gadreel make a relieved noise and hold on to each other. Castiel can’t help the surprised smile on his face. He really wants to know how the jury came to this decision, but he knows that’s a meeting that is never supposed to be talked about.

“Gadreel and Abner, you two have been relieved from your sentence in prison, as of today you are now free Angels.” Azrael stacks some papers together, obviously wanting to get out as quickly as possible. From where they’re seated, Abner and Gadreel share a long hug. Behind them, a few people in the crowd start objecting to the verdict, but Azrael appears to be already gone. Josiel comes to shake his hand in an honorable defeat, and Castiel still congratulates her despite her loss.

“And you good luck with your human, Castiel,” Josiel tells him with a soft smile on her lips. Castiel nods lightly at her before turning back towards Abner and Gadreel, who are being freed from their bindings by Portia and Bariel. The moment they’re completely released, they rush into each other’s arms, holding on tight in another warm embrace. Castiel is still a little baffled on how he actually managed to convince the judges; he thought he’d done a horrible job at representing the two Angels in front of him.

Castiel shakes a few more hands – Inias’s, Muriel’s, Hannah’s, and many more. Gail even wraps him in a strong hug – their usual handshake, like Castiel explained to Dean all those years ago. She still seems as enthusiastic about Dean and Castiel as before, asking how they’re doing and all those things. By the time he can finally reach Abner and Gadreel, he receives another embrace from the two.

“Thank you, Castiel,” Abner mutters to him.

“You’re welcome, Abner,” Castiel tells him in return.

“We would love to meet your human, now,” Gadreel reveals. When he’s finally let go, Castiel can’t help but smile at the two Angels in front of him.

“I think that could be arranged,” Castiel tells them. “But first, you two need vessels. Wouldn’t want you to burn out my beloved’s eyes.”

 

* * *

 

 

_Pontiac, Illinois  
May 21 st _

Okay, so Dean may or may not have lied.

Sam knows all about it though; otherwise he would never have let Dean go here by himself. His baby brother just pretended he had found this interesting book at the library, and thought Dean and Castiel could handle the ‘case’ by themselves.

Castiel probably knows by now that he’s lying. Dean’s just that transparent, he figures. He’s gripping the steering wheel of his beloved Baby tightly, jumpy every time Castiel even just opens his mouth.

Dean knows very well which day it is today; his one-year anniversary with Castiel. Exactly one year ago, they closed up the gates of Hell, Crowley became a human once again, and Dean and Castiel finally pulled their heads out of their asses and decided to just go with it as long as they could.

Ever since the Djinn-attack, this has been the only thing that kept on going through his mind. He wants this more than anything else in the world; a remainder of his life with Castiel, a promise to stay together through good times and bad times.

So yeah, he made up a case, telling Cas that there were three mysterious disappearances all the way back in Pontiac, Illinois. Castiel has been a little edgy about the location of the case because of his vessel’s background, but it has never really been a question whether or not he would come along to this case.

It’s already getting dark when they finally arrive at the town, and normally Dean would head straight to a motel and get settled for the night. This time not, though. He has other plans.

So instead he drives past the motel, causing Castiel to look back in surprise.

“Eh, yeah, thought we could check the place of their disappearances right away,” Dean tells him in a poor attempt of a lie. Castiel raises an eyebrow at him, but doesn’t ask about it. If Sam were here, the Angel would have already flown off to check the whole town. Luckily, he seems hesitant on leaving Dean alone.

They don’t speak at all. Not even when Dean parks the car in a field with nothing more than a broken barn. Dean recognizes the place right away. The broken roof, the rusted metal walls. Castiel looks at the building in suspicion, moving forward very slowly, shielding Dean on his way. Dean can’t help but roll his eyes at that.

“Why would people disappear here?” Castiel then asks when he gets right in the middle of the barn. With a few of the roof panels gone, they can see the starry night above them. Instead of answering, Dean already lowers himself down on one knee, reaching in the pocket of his jacket for the box he brought along. When Castiel turns around again to get clarification, his eyes widen in surprise at seeing Dean kneeling down before him. He takes a small step backwards and frowns.

“Dean, why are you-?”

“This is the place we first met, remember?” Dean asks gently, still holding the box behind his back. Castiel looks around for a moment, only then seeming to take in the sigils still written on the walls of the barn. Recognition falls all over his face, and his mouth falls open comically.

“I remember how little I knew back then; Angels weren’t real; the Apocalypse was just some old bible-story… I was unwilling to open my eyes for what was really around me.

“And then you came barging in there, claiming you were an Angel of the Lord, that you saved me from my supposedly eternal punishment in Hell. Helped me not to be the monster I was already becoming.”

Castiel remains unmoving, and that concerns Dean a little.

“From that one day, you’ve been nothing but a near-constant presence in my life; you became my best friend, and then you became my family. And when I was stuck in that djinn-world, I had you. We were married, and we were expecting a child. Now I know I could probably never have one of those two possibilities, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have the other one.

“So, Castiel ‘ _I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition_ ’ Angel of the Lord, would you make me the happiest man alive by marrying me?” he finally says, taking out the ring he bought the moment he decided to do this. It’s a simple silver ring with not much decoration on it. He knows that Castiel likes things simple. Dean prefers things that way too.

Then, finally, Castiel moves forward and holds out his hand, allowing Dean to slide the ring on the right finger. It’s when the feeling of shock seems to have passed that he seems to be able to smile again. His teeth are bare, there are crinkles next to his eyes, and he seems downright happy.

“Of course, Dean Winchester,” Castiel finally answers, before leaning in for a long and strong kiss. When his hand rests against Dean’s face, the hunter can feel the cold metal of the silver against his skin, and man, isn’t that reason enough to make him smile?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Liked it? Didn't like it? Suggestions? Tips? Requests? You can always leave on of those in a comment, because you might not see it, but seeing comments can really cheer me up ^^  
> Love you all, and hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	10. The pen! I freaking told you about the pen!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And then there's a wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this chapter is just one big trainwreck. I don't know how to write weddings, I don't know why I suddenly decided to add some sad feels in this chapter, and I'm sorry it's again one day late.  
> I actually did some research about weddings, finding some stuff out about the license and all those things I never knew about.  
> Chapter warnings: A badly written wedding and some sad things for Cas. Also another minor Dean/Cas fight.

 

_Pontiac – Illinois, Willy’s Bam! Motel  
May 21 st _

Dean is out of breath when he drops back down on his back in the bed. His whole skin is sweaty, his heartrate speeding like he’s being chased by Fairies again. His hand is resting on his stomach, and the other one behind his head.

Right next to him, Castiel looks just as exhausted as Dean feels, though he knows the Angel couldn’t be tired. Castiel lifts up his head slightly to look up at Dean, and when their eyes meet, a new warm feeling passes over the hunter. With his right hand he reaches for Castiel’s, touching the ring the moment they make contact.

Slowly but surely, Castiel’s bright blue glow is diminishing. His wings have already disappeared. Dean’s handprint still seems to tingle, though. He likes that feeling a lot.

Dean pulls up Castiel’s hand towards his lips and presses a soft kiss to the knuckles, taking opportunity of the glow to admire Castiel’s silver ring a little more. He really likes it on the Angel; it’s like it’s _supposed_ to be there.

“Though I do not require air, having sex with you always leaves me breathless,” Castiel confesses, causing Dean to snort. The hunter pinches his eyes closed and doubles over while he laughs. When he lowers down again, he finds Cas looking at him in a worried expression.

“Dude, that just sounded like a cheap pick-up line! ‘ _I don’t need air, but you can leave me breathless’_.” Dean laughs again, but when he sees that his Angel isn’t following, Dean takes the hand back in his own. “Don’t worry, bud, you leave me breathless as well.”

Now Castiel looks smug and even a little proud. The nerd…

“When will we tell the others?” Castiel then asks after a few more moments of silence. Dean doesn’t answer immediately, instead thinking over the names of his friends over in his head. Sammy will need to know, obviously. And Kevin and Mrs. Tran. And Charlie, if they’re able to see her again.

But he also wants his mother to know. And his father. And Bobby, Jo and Ellen. All the people closest to him should know, but more than half of them is currently staying up in Heaven, living in the paradise they’ve made for themselves.

“You can tell whenever you want,” Dean tells him, though he realizes he doesn’t sound as enthusiastic as he intended. He closes his eyes then, not wanting to meet Castiel’s gaze. Before the Angel can ask, he clarifies. “I don’t want it to be some big ceremony, Cas. I just – back in that Djinn-world, you took us upstairs, we had a little party with everybody, and afterwards we just went back to the land of the living. I guess that’s an idea that got stuck.”

Castiel presses a hand on Dean’s in understanding.

“I can take you to Heaven, Dean. But to bring everybody there will be extremely difficult.” Dean nods lightly. “But I can bring the people you want down?”

Dean sits up a little in surprise. Did he just hear that correctly? Is Cas suggesting to resurrect everybody? Even though their bodies burned to the ground in a hunter’s funeral?

“As spirits,” Castiel explains with an apologetic face. “If it’s just for a short time, they can stay on Earth until the ‘ _party’_ is done. After that, the other Angels can escort them back to Heaven.”

Okay, that’s even better than he’d expected. He really likes this idea; at least they can do it officially down here, and all the people he’s ever cared about will be there as well. It’s the best he can get and it’s even more than he’d expected.

“That sounds perfect,” Dean tells him with a soft smile, which Castiel returns. Then the Angel looks down at both their naked bodies and smirks. Dean lifts an eyebrow at him in question.

“Want to go again?” Castiel asks enthusiastically, to which Dean literally groans in exasperation. He turns himself down on his stomach and presses his face in the pillow. Cas casts him a worried look. “What’s wrong, Dean?”

“Babe, I love having sex with you, but I still got limits! Let me sleep!” Dean says against the pillow, loud enough so Cas could hear. The Angel just rests his arms on Dean’s shoulder-blades and hovers above him.

“But Dean, please?” he still begs, as if they hadn’t been doing it five times already. Sadly, Dean realizes he’s got Cas addicted to it. He groans again loudly, but eventually turns around again.

“Okay, but you do all the work,” Dean tells him. “And if I fall asleep don’t be insulted, you big baby.”

“I love you, too, Dean,” Castiel tells him happily, as if he’s a child that just received a massive lollypop. And with that, they’re on it again.

 

* * *

 

 

_Heaven, Azrael’s office_

_May 25 th _

He probably should have prepared more, Castiel realizes. He doesn’t know what he was thinking, just barging in here and ask for Azrael to allow five souls from Heaven to return to Earth for one day. And for what? To marry his human! To him it means a lot, but to Azrael it wouldn’t make a difference if these five souls would be present or not.

“Azrael’s ready for you,” Naomi tells him then, pulling him out of his thoughts. It’s now or never, right? He stands up and thanks the Angel shortly by nodding at her. Naomi smiles back at him, but then leads the way towards the office.

Castiel hates the office. It’s grey, it’s dull, it’s like there’s no life in there, only eternity and nothing more. The walls are bare, the floor is empty of any carpet, and there’s only a desk and two chairs, in which one Azrael’s already sitting on.

“Well, hello again, Castiel,” Azrael greets him tonelessly. She lifts her head up at his arrival, but doesn’t make any indication to move from her spot at the desk. Naomi gestures for him to sit down, and then she’s walking out, leaving Castiel alone with the new ruler of Heaven.

“Hello, Azrael,” Castiel greets her back, trying to hide how uncomfortable he is. Azrael then lets out a long sigh and leans back against her chair. To Castiel’s biggest surprise, she starts shaking her head. What could that mean? Has she finally decided to act more… human?

“I must say, Castiel, that I grow tired of your requests. There’s always something you need; a private visit with the prisoners, to build up a case with said prisoners. What question have you gotten for me this time?”

Castiel was wrong; she’s still a cold-hearted bitch – Father forgive him for even thinking that.

“I apologize for my numerous visits and requests,” Castiel speaks out in hope to soothe her mood a little bit. Of course, her face is as neutral as always, so he could only know her reaction by words. Great, because he _really_ loves talking to her. “This is concerning my relationship with Dean.”

Azrael frowns then, which looks strange on her stony face. She has her arms crossed over the desk while she leans forward a little bit.

“And why should your Earthly relationship with your human mean anything to me?” She taps her fingers on the desk, creating an annoying sound that starts to make Castiel nervous. He looks down for a moment while he thinks his words through. Convincing her might be more difficult this time, and it hadn’t exactly been easy the first two times.

“We’re getting married,” Castiel tells her truthfully. Azrael’s eyes open up in surprise. The tapping of her fingers against the desk has stopped. She looks shocked to say the least, but he can understand that; he hasn’t really given her this news in a careful way. “I wanted to make sure his family could be there for the ceremony.”

Understanding then comes up in Azrael’s face. She shakes her head lightly and sighs.

“You mean his friends that are residing in Heaven?”

Castiel nods, though he is unsure of where she’s going with this. He clasps his hands together and rests them on his lap, trying not to come across too nervously. Azrael uncrosses her arms and leans forward a little more. Castiel waits patiently for her answer.

“No.”

Castiel’s hope falls. His hands let go of each other and both ball into fists. He tries to keep his face level, tries not to come across too dependent on her, but he knows he’s failing miserably. He has to bite his lips to keep himself from shouting it out to her.

“No?” he asks her calmly, barely able to keep his anger out of his voice.

“No,” Azrael repeats before standing up. She pushes her black chair backwards and starts walking towards a window behind here desk. She lifts up the blinds and looks out, where Castiel can see a big part of the multiple Heavens. He never really noticed the window before because it has always been covered by the blinds.

“You see, Castiel, I can help out an Angel with a request once in a while. That’s what I’m a leader for. But you have come to ask for my help a little too often. The first time I knew I was going to allow you to speak to the prisoners. I just wanted to see how much you wanted it. With the request for their liberation I agreed right away because I do not have all the time you seem to think I have.

“These last two requests were also regarding other Angel’s safety. You convinced me Thaddeus was not to come anywhere close to Gadreel and Abner because he was punishing them too hard. You managed to prove that the Garden was not their mistake entirely. This request you’ve come to me with is different; it has nothing to do with the improvement of Heaven, but it’s a selfish one.”

She closes the blinds again and turns towards Castiel.

“Angels do not get married. Angels do not choose humans over their own kind. You might still have the Grace, and you might still have the wings, but in my eyes, you are nothing but a human with the powers of the Heavenly host. Whenever I look at you, I don’t see an Angel looking back at me.

“There have been a lot of complaints about you; about you betraying Heaven multiple times in the last few years. And I have listened to each of those complaints, and I have come to a decision as to what to do about it.”

Castiel’s eyes widen in fear. This isn’t what he’s come to her office for, this isn’t happening. Not happening, not happening. Not. Happening.

“I hereby banish you from the Heaven’s for the next hundred years. Just because I have a soft spot for you, I allow you to keep your Grace and thereby your powers – they won’t fade away over time. The sentence isn’t long either because I’m not cruel; you might have done bad things, but there are a few good things you’ve done as well. Still, I cannot favor one Angel over the other, otherwise that would make me a terrible leader.”

“Naomi told me exactly one year ago I was welcome to return to Heaven as if nothing has happened,” Castiel bites at her, unable to keep his anger to himself. Azrael just looks at him as if she’s bored.

“Naomi isn’t the boss anymore, Castiel. I am.” Then she lifts up her hands and snaps her fingers together. In just a blink of an eye, Castiel finds himself back in the hallway of the Men of Letters Headquarters.

For a moment he’s completely disoriented. Of course it must all have been a sick joke from Azrael or something, he couldn’t _really_ be banished, right? He opens up his wings to take flight again, but something stops him. He literally _can’t_ get back into Heaven, like there’s an invisible wall keeping him from entering.

“No,” he mutters, trying again, only to be stopped again. “No, no, no!” His wings grow tired from the excessive amount of energy he pulls in trying to breach that wall that stops him from entering. When he starts to ache, he gives up at last, breathing harshly in shock and disbelief. He barely notices the strong arms around him, barely notices Dean holding him tightly to calm him down.

“It’s okay, Cas,” Castiel hears in a whisper at his ear. Fingers go through his hair in a calming way. He realizes he’s kneeling on the floor, face pressed against Dean’s chest, arms hanging lifelessly across his body. He sees the blurry figures of Sam, Kevin, Linda and Crowley surrounding them, but he can’t catch their faces.

And against Dean’s chest, he shouts it out again. Dean lets him.

 

* * *

 

 

_Men of Letters Headquarters, Dean’s bedroom  
A few hours later_

 

Castiel starts to calm down again after screaming into Dean’s chest for four more hours. During the whole time, Dean stays with him, comforting him through these hard times. Castiel is thankful for it, but he knows the hunter is going to ask questions now that he’s calm again. The two of them are lying in Dean’s bed; Castiel has wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist and has his head still against Dean’s chest. Dean regularly kisses his hair, his forehead, his cheek… to settle him down. He keeps on touching him affectionately, keeps on making small promises against his hair.

So Castiel tells him everything that happened before Dean could ask. About how he went to request for permission to take Dean’s family temporarily out of Heaven, how Azrael suddenly started to accuse him for things he thought were in the past. He tells him how he’s unable to return to Heaven for the next hundred years, and that that was even a mild punishment.

And he tells him how he can’t join Dean when he goes to Heaven. Not until his banishment is over, meaning that Dean will be alone when he arrives. And who knows what the other Angels could do to him to get to Castiel.

Dean only holds him tighter while he speaks and adds in a few reassuring words once in a while, but eventually the conversation stops when Castiel tells him he wants to escape to another dream world. Dean complies, allowing Castiel to press his fingers against Dean’s forehead to get him to sleep, and then he follows him inside.

The dreamscape Dean has brought Castiel in is familiar by now. They’ve been coming here a lot lately, which has probably something to do with both their desires to have something they can’t have, thus finding their dreams as the only way for them to have it.

It’s the same white house as always; with a garage, two floors and an attic, and a basement as well where Castiel one day found all of Dean’s hunting weapons. He’s never asked about it, Dean never talked about it. Instead, they mostly spend their time in the garden or in the nursery where, sometimes, a little baby lies there in his cradle. Sometimes, the kid is older, sometimes already a teenager. Sometimes there are two of them. It varies with every dream, but Castiel knows Dean loves every one of these kids.

This time, the nursery is instead a bedroom fit for a seven-year-old boy; deep blue walls, fluorescent stars stuck on the ceiling, and multiple space-decorations all around. There’s nobody inside, though, so Castiel turns back towards the stairs to get down, finding Dean talking excitedly to a blonde-curled little girl. For a moment, Castiel is surprised as to why a young little girl would want such a boyish bedroom, but eventually he decides it’s one of those human things. He tells himself to memorize that not all girls need girly stuff, and then he walks towards the two.

When the girl turns to see Castiel, she smiles widely at him and loudly yells “Daddy!” Her two front teeth are out; she must have lost them recently. The girl opens up her arms and allows Castiel to lift her up in the air to rest against his hip.

“Hello,” Castiel tells her, not sure yet what to call her. It’s Dean’s dream, he decides the name.

“Mary, sweetie, why don’t you go play in your room for a while, while your daddy and I talk, okay?” Dean tells the girl. Castiel lets her go, and with a short nod, the girl runs back upstairs and Castiel and Dean are alone again in the room.

“She’s grown since last time I saw her,” Castiel starts after a few moments of silence. Last time they were here with a kid called Mary, she was only a baby, doing a great job of sucking on Castiel’s finger. He remembers that whenever he tried to pry his hand away, she started crying. He had cursed a lot on Dean that night, but the hunter had only been laughing.

Dean nods lightly and leans forward; resting his elbows on his knees. The smile on his lips doesn’t reach his eyes, but Castiel can understand that they have little to smile about right now. Even he had it difficult to try and look genuinely happy upon seeing another fragment of Dean’s imagination posing as their child.

“This dream again, Dean?” Castiel doesn’t want to do this, but he knows they can’t avoid the issue much longer. Almost _every_ night they find themselves in the same house, both of them parents of a little one. Castiel can see the longing expression on Dean’s face every time he holds one of the kids in his arms, and it breaks Castiel’s heart that he can’t possibly give Dean what he wants.

“Nah, nah, nah, we’re not going to talk about me right now,” Dean tells him then, and though his voice sounds tired, he stands up and crosses the room to get a beer from the fridge. “Now it’s all about _you_.”

“You already know what happened to me today, Dean,” Castiel says defensively. “I explained you right before we went to sleep, in case you’ve already forgotten.”

“Oh, I haven’t forgotten. It’s all I can seem to think about right now, Cas!” Dean snaps back. Right after that he sighs and presses his fingers against his forehead while he leans over the counter. “I’m just _so_ sorry, okay?”

Castiel’s eyebrows raise up in surprise and confusion. “What are you sorry for? _You_ didn’t banish me?”

“I might as well have, Cas!” Oh, Castiel can see where this is going. He can already see Dean’s anger he feels for himself changing the whole scenery into a dried out forest. “Had you never been with me, all this _crap_ wouldn’t have happened to you!”

“Dean, don’t turn this on you! It was _my_ choice to be with you, you didn’t _force_ me to start a relationship with you!”

Castiel doesn’t want to talk about this, because no matter what he’ll say, Dean’ll find a way to put the blame on himself – like he always does, and in Castiel’s opinion there are other things that need discussing more; like the fact that these domestic dreams are getting extremely out of hand.

“Cas, are you even listening to me?”

The Angel looks back up, realizing that Dean has been talking to him all the time. He must have been wandering away in his thoughts.

“No, Dean, because it’s always the same self-blaming thing with you, and I’m not going to stand for it. Not this time.”

Dean’s mouth has fallen open to answer to that, but Castiel cuts him to it.

“I got banished because I rebelled during the apocalypse; because I tried to be God and murdered thousands of my brothers and sisters in the process. I got banished because I let the leviathan loose on Earth; for temporarily working alongside Metatron. And I got banished because _I_ wanted to spend more time on Earth; not because you _told_ me to.

“So you can take all that guilt you’re feeling, and just let go of it all at once, because there’s not a single thing to blame on you, Dean Winchester.”

The dreamscape changes again, but this time their back in the main hall of the bunker. They’re alone too, and from the clock on the wall Castiel can say that it’s night in the dream, meaning that the others must be sleeping.

“I’m also sorry that I won’t be able to get your family to the ceremony,” Castiel mumbles then when the realization of his banishment hits again. The reason he went to Azrael in the first place was to ask for her permission to allow them to return to Earth for one day.

Castiel goes to sit down in a chair at the table, and Dean joins him in the one next to him. The hunter rests his hand on Castiel’s knee to comfort him.

“That’s alright, babe,” Dean tells him calmly. “I’m sure they’ll watch over us from where they are. And that they’re proud as well.”

A small smile forms on both their faces. Castiel puts his hand above Dean’s on his knee, and he entwines their fingers together.

“I just- The plan was to come and join you when your soul was ready to move to Heaven. I was going to escort you personally. But now-.”

“Hey, hey, none of that, okay?” Dean moves from his seat and kneels in front of Castiel, taking both his hands into his own. “I’ll wait for you, okay? I’ll always wait for you.” Dean reaches up slowly to kiss him tenderly on the lips, and Castiel closes his eyes in the process.

For a few moments they stay still, only holding on to each other without doing anything more. Castiel tries to clear his mind, tries to remove the image of him staying behind on Earth while Dean is all alone in Heaven, waiting for him.

Instead, his thoughts drift back to Dean’s previous dreamscape; the house, the kid, the garden. They really need to talk about that as well, so Castiel swallows lightly, tightening the grasp on Dean’s hands.

“Dean, about the dreams…” Castiel doesn’t really know how to start this. Of course, the hunter is going to avoid talking about it; it’s what he does best. But Castiel really thinks it’s for the best to get this out before it gets completely out of hand. “I know how much you want children, Dean. And I know there are other ways to have a child of our own apart from carrying one ourselves. If that’s what you really want, we can still adopt, right?”

Dean shakes his head and stands up again. He sits himself down in the chair next to Castiel, and looks away from him.

“I’m not forcing a child into this life, Cas,” Dean tells him. He bites his lip. “I tried to get out of it before, but Ben still got hurt. I can’t do that again.”

“But Dean, you desire it so much, and I could ward off anything bad?”

“Please, Cas. No,” Dean begs of him with a shaky voice. “After Ben I swore to myself that I would _never_ again bring a kid in my life. I know you could protect them with ease, but it’s just not a good environment.”

Castiel knows it’s time to give up on this. He’s not going to convince Dean today, anyway, but he can try again another time. So instead, he nods in defeat, and allows Dean to take him where-ever he wants to be next.

 

* * *

 

 

_Missouri Valley, Iowa, Tuesday June 3 rd _

_City Hall_

 

“Identification papers?”

“Check.”

“Confirmation mail from the appointment?”

“Check.”

“Money for the fee?”

“Check.”

“Anything to sign our forms with?”

“I’m pretty sure they have a pen at the office, Dean. But just in case, I’ve got one right here in my breast pocket.”

Still, Dean continues pacing around nervously while he’s waiting. Sam can see his hands shaking, though he doesn’t understand why he’s so worked up about it. It’s only a marriage license they’re getting themselves after all… Kevin, who’s sitting a little further away, only rolls his eyes.

“Dean, would you calm down please?” Castiel says from where he’s sitting, reading a magazine about the latest news in Missouri Valley. He doesn’t remove his eyes from the paper, though, which is probably why Dean shoots him an annoyed glare.

“ _You_ calm down!” he shoots back. Castiel lifts an eyebrow up at him and finally looks up. Dean flinches a bit from the stare, and holds his hands up in defeat, only to continue pacing.

“Dean, I don’t get why you’re so nervous about it? You’re not actually getting _married_ today, you do know that?” Sam tells him from where he’s seated. He watches how his brother makes step after step around the room, only to turn back again and again. His hands are rubbing together as if he’s trying to wash away something dirty.

“I know, but what if there’s something wrong with Cas’s papers? Or if they’re going to deny us because we’re both dudes? Or what if the place suddenly catches fire and we won’t be able to finish it? The license only allows us to marry in four days, Sammy! We planned it exactly like that with the church and the few people that are going to be there already have their invitations!”

“Dude, Dean, the place is _not_ suddenly going to catch fire,” Sam tells him dryly. Dean only shrugs at that. “Besides, they won’t deny you anything, because we _checked_ for states which allowed same-sex marriage for the last two weeks, and we decided to go to Iowa because it’s the nearest place for us _and_ Jody doesn’t have to travel too far either.”

“But-?”

“Nothing ‘but’, Dean. Sit down!” Castiel orders him harshly. Dean starts a little bit from the strength of the Angel’s voice, but complies, walking towards the chair next to Castiel’s and sitting himself down. Castiel reaches for his fiancé’s hand and holds it up to his lips to give him a reassuring kiss. The silver of the engagement ring reflects with the light when it moves, and Sam can’t keep his eyes off of it. He can remember perfectly how the two came home from that fake-case with the big news. Cas had been so excited about it, speaking so fast and quickly about how they were going to do it.

Well, at least most of those plans are going to happen. With sadness he looks at Castiel again. The Angel has grown a little bit more silent after being banished from Heaven. He still smiles at Dean, and it’s clear that he’s not depressed in any way. But Sam can still feel the shift in his attitude. He seems to be seeing things more darkly than before, and he could also be imagining it, but it seems like Dean’s mood has darkened as well.

“Winchester-Wilson?” a woman suddenly calls from behind the corner, and the four men look up. Dean shoots up right immediately, pulling Castiel with him. The Angel drops the magazine on the table and follows Dean, looking at him fondly when they start moving forward. Sam rolls his eyes when he sees Dean has forgotten his identification papers on his seat, so he takes them along and sighs.

He has a little trouble to process it, though; Dean, his brother who has trouble doing anything that contains feelings, is actually going to _marry_ Castiel, like normal people would do. It’s all just a little unbelievable, in Sam’s opinion, but that doesn’t make him any less happy about it.

Kevin walks beside him, behind the couple following the woman, but neither of them say anything. Normally, only one witness would have sufficed according to his research, but just to be sure Kevin decided to come along. With him just having reached nineteen, he’s at least allowed to be a witness.

When they enter the room at the County Registrar, Sam takes a deep breath to calm his own nerves. Without even noticing it he’s gotten nervous as well. He wills his hands to stay still as he pokes his brother on the shoulder to hand him his identification papers. Dean nods at him thankfully, and before Sam knows it, he’s suddenly wrapped in a tight hug.

“Good luck, Dean,” Sam tells him quietly, and Dean nods before letting go again. Sam sees how his brother takes Castiel’s hand in his own, and walks to the two chairs in the middle in front of the desk. Sam goes to sit on Dean’s right, Kevin on Castiel’s left.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” the man sitting behind the desk says. Sam can remember that his name is Harold Kaufman from the mails they sent to each other to confirm this appointment. Dean already puts printed mails on the table, and Mr. Kaufman laughs. “That’s not necessary, Mr. Winchester. All I need is some picture identification before we can start.”

Dean looks at the papers on his lap, picking up his own driver’s license and Castiel’s to hand them to Mr. Kaufman. The man smiles friendly at them and takes over the papers. He then starts typing things on the computer before handing the papers back to Dean.

“Okay, now we’re going to fill in these forms together, see that everything is answered correctly, and after that, you’ll need to wait three days to pick up your application.”

Both Dean and Castiel nod, and then Mr. Kaufman looks at Sam first, and then Kevin.

“You two are the witnesses?” he asks. Kevin and Sam nod as well, and offer their own identification papers just to make sure. Mr. Kaufman writes over some more details before handing over the papers again. “Now, for the witnesses, you both understand the nature of the event that is going to follow and you’re both competent to enter into civil contracts yourselves?”

“Yes,” both witnesses say at the same time, and Sam feels a little thrill when he answers. He throws Dean a small smile, and Dean grins nervously. Castiel squeezes his fingers to calm him down again.

“Good, okay. Then first the two witnesses can sign here that they were present,” Mr. Kaufman says, pulling up the form and pointing his finger at the witness-section. Sam signs the paper first, and then Kevin does the same. It’s over really quickly, and right after that, Mr. Kaufman opens up the form to the first page, citing the first required information out loud.

“Pary A, full legal name before marriage, meaning your first name, middle name if you have any, and then your current last name. Also, in case you have already been married you need to write down your last name prior to ANY marriage.”

“Dean Winchester,” Dean says. “No middle name, no marriage to speak about.”

Mr. Kaufman nods and writes it down.

“These are the names you’ll be keeping after the marriage?” he then asks, and Dean nods, turning to look at Castiel shortly. Sam smiles when he sees Castiel trying to calm Dean down. After Mr. Kaufman is ready, he pushes his reading glasses back on his nose and starts reading out the next requirements. “Current place of residence? State, county and city.”

“State of Kansas, Smith, Lebanon,” Dean answers. Kaufman nods again and notes it down.

“State of birth, birthday and gender?”

“Kansas, January 24, 1979, and male.”

Sam eyes his brother for a moment, suddenly surprised at how confident he suddenly appears.

“Father’s and mother’s full name?”

“John Eric Winchester and Mary Campbell,” Dean answers, looking down at his hands then. Castiel holds out his other hand to rest it on Dean’s arm in reassurance.

“Thank you,” Mr. Kaufman says, and then he turns towards Castiel, who takes a deep breath. “Now Party B, I’ll need your full legal name before marriage, containing your first name, middle name if you have any, your current last name and any last name prior to any marriage.”

“My name is Castiel James Wilson, and there’s no last name prior to any marriage,” Castiel answers evenly. “After the marriage my name will be changed to Castiel James Winchester.”

“Current place of residence? State, county and city.”

“Kansas, Smith, Lebanon.”

“State of birth, birthday and gender?”

“Idaho, September 18, 1977. Male.”

“Parent’s full name?”

Castiel stays quiet for a minute, and shortly, Sam worries that he’s forgotten the names. Of course, Angel’s wouldn’t forget something like that, so it must be that Cas is simply hesitating.

“Clint Trent Wilson and Astrid Mary-Ann Vanhasse.”

 

 

“Okay, thank you,” Mr. Kaufman says, noting everything down again. Then he looks up. “Now I’ll need your U.S. government-issued identification when you’ll sign these forms.”

Dean takes out the papers he’s had Mr. Michaels made back in New York and looks them over shortly, as if he’s suddenly afraid that the man would notice they are fake. With hesitation, he hands them over to the man in front of him, and Kaufman, completely oblivious of his hesitancy, reads over them quickly before handing them and the form over.

“Party A signs here, party B signs here,” the man says, offering them the pen he’s been writing with. Dean takes over the pen first, writing down his signature on the line. Sam suddenly sees his brother frown, and when he looks at the paper, he can understand why.

“Oh darn, that was my last pen,” Mr. Kaufman says, looking at the half-made signature on the line. Dean shoots his brother a dangerous glare, and as quickly as he can he hands his own pen to his brother, ignoring the ‘I told you so’ he receives from him. Dean continues to sign, and then he hands the form to Castiel and points him where to write his name.

Castiel makes a quick signature with Sam’s pen, and then hands it back to Mr. Kaufman with the form, who starts scribbling down some more things. Dean is still looking sour when Castiel take his hand again.

“Okay, now only one witness needs to sign this, which one of you wants to go?” Mr. Kaufman asks with his eyebrows raised. Kevin and Sam share a short look before Sam holds out his hands to accept the papers and his pen.

He starts reading. _I……………. affirm that I am acquainted with ……………………, who is ………… years of age, and that I am acquainted with ……………………, who is ………… years of age._ Then he starts filling in the blanks; _Sam Winchester; Dean Winchester, 35, Castiel James Wilson, 37_. Huh, he almost snorts when he fills in Castiel’s age. It doesn’t even come close to how old he really is, but it’s not like he can really write ‘a few millennia’.

Then he hands the documents back to Mr. Kaufman, who fills in a few more things before handing the paper back to Sam to sign it.

“Now I will read out the note to the applicants, listen carefully, please.

“Applicants aged 16 or 17 years old must also present a completed Consent to Marriage form for approval to a judge of the district court in the county from which the marriage license is to be obtained. Age 15 and under may _not_ marry in Iowa.

“Pursuant to Iowa Code section 595.3A, the laws of this state affirm a party’s right to enter into this marriage and at the same time to live within the marriage under the full protection of the laws of this state with regard to violence and abuse. Neither party to the marriage is the property of the other. Assault, sexual abuse and willful injury of a spouse or other family members are violations of the laws of this state and are punishable by the state.

“Applicants’ social security numbers are collected pursuant to Iowa Code section 595.4 and 42 USC 405(c)(2), as amended by Section 109(b) of Public Law 105-34. The law authorizes the Internal Revenue Service (IRS) to use social security numbers for determining Earned Income Tax Credit compliance on income tax returns and to authorize the State Registrar to report the social security number to the Child Support Recovery Unit.”

Sam sees Dean flinch a little bit at the mention of Child Support Recovery. Castiel immediately holds out for his hands again, and Dean squeezes his fingers right back.

“The $35.00 fee must accompany this application.

“Return this form and fee to the County Registrar of Vital Records in the county where you want your record to be filed.

“Review the marriage instructions handout for more details about obtaining the certified copy of your Certificate of Marriage.”

After that, Mr. Kaufman puts the form back down and hands them to Dean and Cas. “Now I’ll need both your Social Security numbers, to be written down here,” Kaufman points his finger at the location, “and then you’ll need to write down the anticipated ceremony date and the anticipated officiant.”

Dean is the one who writes it down, taking out his papers again to search for their social security numbers. It’s all written down rather quickly, and without much further ado, all that needs to be filled is done. Mr. Kaufman takes the papers again and puts them in a folder, picking up another paper then to pass to Dean and Castiel.

“Now if you could fill in this, please,” Mr. Kaufman says, and once again, Dean starts writing. Sam tries to look over his shoulder to see what he’s noting down, but before he can get a good look on the paper, Dean already hands it back, adding the 35 dollars for the fee as well. Mr. Kaufman takes the money and puts it in an envelope, writing down _Winchester-Wilson_ on the paper before adding it in the folder.

“Okay, we’ll contact you when you can come pick up your certification, which should be later today or at least tomorrow afternoon. The date of application is Tuesday the third of June, which means that the license is valid starting on Saturday.”

“Thank you a lot, Mr. Kaufman,” Dean says, shaking the man’s hand excitedly. Mr. Kaufman only nods at them with a smile before going to shake Castiel’s hand as well.

“That’s no trouble at all, Mr. Winchester. I wish you a happy marriage together, and of course a beautiful ceremony.”

The four of them greet the man for a last time before leaving the office. Dean holds tight to his papers, Kevin checks his cellphone, and Castiel just seems to enjoy the silence that passes between them. The moment they get outside, they make their way to the car, parked a little further away from the building they just came out from.

“See, Dean? That wasn’t as dramatic as you thought it was going to be, right?” Sam asks his brother before getting into the passenger’s seat in the car. Castiel and Kevin take their usual places in the back – that is something that even a relationship can’t change.

Before Dean gets in the car he looks angrily at Sam and points at him. “The pen! I freaking _told_ you about the pen! If it weren’t for me telling you to bring that _damn_ thing along, we would still have been there!”

Sam rolls his eyes and gets in, followed by his brother. In the backseat, both Kevin and Cas laugh from Dean’s reaction.

“Dude, he would have been gone one minute to get a pen from another office, no big deal?” Sam tells him with a grin on his face. Dean just grumbles a few words and puts the key into the ignition, starting up the car.

“Dean, don’t be so rude to your brother,” Castiel chastises him jokingly, causing Kevin and Sam to burst out laughingly. Sam has no idea when the Angel has picked up a sense of humor, but he loves it!

 

* * *

 

 

_That evening,  
Oak Tree Inn, Missouri Valley_

 

It feels like it’s just a calm before the storm.

Dean just can’t shake this feeling off of him; this thought that everything is happening so well lately, only to have it taken away from him real soon again. He doesn’t like to admit it, but he’s actually getting scared a little bit.

He looks at the marriage license they picked up in the late afternoon, surprised at how fast the application had been accepted. To be honest, he’s never thought about the whole process that comes _before_ the wedding. There really is a lot to take care off before one could actually tie the knot and get hitched already. Luckily, they have a limited guest-list, so the party isn’t that elaborated either.

Cas is sitting at the desk, reading up on some more documents about their big day. Their plan was to write their wedding vows together – because Cas insisted they’d do those, too. Instead, Dean is sitting there at the table with zero inspiration, and Cas is already finished and only waiting for Dean to do the same.

“I can’t do it, Cas,” Dean groans out in annoyance, throwing his arms in the air angrily. Castiel lifts up an eyebrow at him. Dean’s paper is still blank, waiting to be filled with words that explain how he feels about Cas.

The Angel stands up from where he’s sitting, then, making his way behind Dean’s chair to rest his hands on the man’s shoulders. Dean can feel Castiel’s face right next to his, then; his lips against his ear.

“Maybe I can help you find some inspiration?” Castiel asks, obviously grinning. Dean smirks and slaps him on his arm.

“You addict,” he mutters at him, instead taking his hand into his own and taking another look at the engagement ring. Gently, he presses a soft kiss on the metal, causing Castiel to breathe out loudly. Their eyes meet for a moment, and right away Dean feels warm all the way inside. He reaches out for Castiel’s face, slowly caressing his cheek. Castiel closes his eyes, smiling lightly.

“How could I ever write these things when I’m so bad at expressing my feelings?” Dean wonders out loud, frowning a little at his own words. Castiel looks at him sadly for a moment, but then takes Dean’s hand on his cheek in his own, and squeezes his fingers.

“You have your own way of telling people how you feel,” Castiel tells him in return. “You trust them while in reality you’re a very untrusting person. You open up to them in ways you never would do with anybody else. You don’t use words to show me how you feel; you use actions.”

“More than words, right?” Dean asks grinningly, pushing his chair back a little to pull his Angel on to his lap. Castiel smirks as well, wrapping his arms around Dean’s shoulders and pressing their foreheads together.

Suddenly there’s this quiet melody in the background, coming out of the radio. At first, Dean has trouble recognizing it, but as soon as the singer starts, he can’t help but roll his eyes.

“You’re disgustingly romantic,” Dean tells him, secretly enjoying the melody of Extreme’s _More than words_ playing in the background. He suddenly feels as if he’s in a movie or some sort. There’s the (sort-of) romantic setting, the music, the company.

“ _More than words is all you have to do to make it real. Then you wouldn’t have to say that you love me, ‘cause I’d already know,”_ Castiel hums along lowly but strangely on-key. Dean has to admit that he’s impressed; who would have thought his Angel could sing?

“How even do you know the lyrics?” he asks jokingly before pressing two small kisses on both his cheeks. Castiel shrugs lightly, fingers moving slowly to Dean’s hair, gently massaging his head.

“I felt some sort of connection with the song first time I heard it. It has become my favorite song,” Castiel explains, kissing Dean again but on the lips this time. Dean can’t help smiling against Castiel’s mouth, and he turns his face away, starting to stand up. Castiel follows, and without thinking about it too much, Dean puts one hand on Castiel’s hip, and with his other one he holds Castiel’s hand. Castiel grips Dean’s left shoulder tightly again, making a wave of warm feelings pass over the hunter. Slowly, they more around the room, movements matching the gentle ballad currently playing on the radio.

“ _What would you do if my heart was torn in two? More than words to show you feel that your love for me is real. What would you say if I’d took those words away? Then you couldn’t make things new just by saying ‘I love you’.”_

“You’re such a sap,” Dean mutters against Castiel’s face, causing the Angel to chuckle.

“You’re the one that proposed, remember? _You’re_ the sap here, in my opinion,” Castiel counters. Dean opens his mouth to throw something back, but he can’t figure out what to say. Instead, he kisses the Angel again while the song comes to an end. The hands that hold on to each other have their fingers entwined together, and they don’t let go when Dean pushes Castiel on the bed and comes to lean above him. Their lips don’t lose contact either, and somehow the song repeats in the background.

They lose their clothes before they even get to the chorus of the song. Dean’s fingers are determent to touch everywhere. Castiel just takes it, unknowingly spreading his legs again, allowing Dean to rest his hips between them.

Opening up Cas doesn’t take long this time, but Dean supposes that’s because the Angel is throwing in some of his mojo as well, probably intending to finish this along with the song. Now Dean feels like they’re in a movie even more.

When Dean finally pushes into place they’re halfway through the song. Right away, Castiel touches Dean’s handprint, something he mostly keeps for the end.

“Someone is a little impatient?” Dean jokes lightly while rocking his hips back and forth. Castiel just takes it, throwing his head back and baring his neck to Dean, who can’t help himself from pressing tender kisses on the skin there, intentionally sucking a little too long in some places and leaving a hickey or two.

“Please, Dean, I need you,” Castiel mutters to him, already baring his wings for Dean. Dean speeds up his movements, then, willing to give Castiel whatever he wants. Castiel’s breath speeds up, his eyes start to glow so he closes them, and his wings are uncontrollably trying to reach Dean’s hands, willing the hunter to offer him the release he’s chasing.

“Not yet, babe,” Dean tells him in a whisper. “The song isn’t over yet.” But it will be soon. He can recognize the part they’re at now, so he speeds up again, building up to his peak even faster than before – that’s mostly because Castiel is multiplying his feelings with the currently one-way grace-soul-bonding. Dean knows that explosive feeling he seeks will come the moment he touches Castiel’s wings as well, thus completing the connection of the bond again.

“Dean,” Castiel whispers out breathily, and that is Dean’s cue to finally reach for the wings, reaching out for Castiel’s wings. He screams it out loud, then. Loud enough that they could have heard it five rooms further. He screams when he feels that wave of pleasure pass from his shoulder to his chest, down to his stomach, and further. Like always, it leaves him so breathless that he has to try and find a way to calm down his heart before he dies of a heart attack.

Right on cue, the song ends, and Castiel lets go of Dean’s shoulder to throw himself back on the bed completely. Dean doesn’t pull away, though, remaining on top of his Angel, slowly caressing the feathers of his wings while they’re still there.

“Can you feel how the connection gets stronger every time we do that?” Castiel asks him quietly, and come to think of it, huh, he’s actually right. Dean _has_ noticed that their bond seems to be getting stronger. Not so strong that he could read Castiel’s mind, or something, but somehow he’s extra aware of the Angel, as if having Castiel present makes his own soul warm up and reach out for the Angel’s Grace.

“Is there a limit?” Dean asks, a little afraid that one day they might have to stop the bonding because it would be too overwhelming. Castiel shakes his head, though, probably reading Dean’s sudden fear from his face. When the Angel starts to smile, Dean’s eyes widen. “What? Don’t tell me I’m going to suddenly become an Angel or something?”

An eyeroll is what he receives at that. Castiel pushes Dean off of him, turning the both of them so they’re lying on their sides, facing each other. Dean reaches for the sheets to cover themselves.

“I love you,” Castiel mutters at him with a light smile on his face. Dean returns the expression, tilting up the corners of his lips.

“Think Sam and Kev would be pissed at us for making all that noise?” Dean asks while his fingers pass lightly over Castiel’s face. The Angel shrugs faintly.

“Aren’t they always?” he asks, and Dean laughs again. Now, looking at Castiel’s eyes brings him so many feelings he never thought he’d ever have. There’s this fondness that he almost doesn’t recognize, this unspoken need to be in Castiel’s presence all the time. He wants to see his Angel smile, wants to comfort him whenever he might cry (if he even does that?).

“Dean, are you okay?” Castiel suddenly asks, and it’s then that Dean realizes there’s a tear rolling off of his cheek. A little taken aback, Dean rubs it away and looks at the small drop on his finger.

“Huh,” Dean mutters, knowing very well what these emotions are. It’s happiness. Contentment. Domesticity. Things he’d never thought he could ever have, though yet here they are. “I think I found my inspiration,” Dean then says, throwing the covers away and bending down to pick up his clothes.

“Dean?” Castiel asks in surprise, but Dean silences him with a gesture of his hand.

“Nope, you don’t get to look, you don’t get to read my mind either. These words are for your ears on the wedding only, and not sooner!” Dean only puts on his pants before sitting down at the table again, picking up the pen he’s dropped there earlier and starting to write on the blank paper. He can almost feel Castiel’s curiosity behind him, and he enjoys it the whole time.

 

* * *

 

 

_Next morning,  
Oak Tree Inn, Missouri Valley_

It’s clear on the looks on other people’s faces that Sam’s not the only one who has been scarred for life last night. All around him, people are yawning, rubbing their eyes, or even refilling their cup of coffee for the seventh time.

The noise, God it had been so loud! Sam couldn’t possibly block it out, sleeping in the room right next to them. Lucky for Kevin, the Prophet had already been deep asleep, otherwise he would have walked around like a zombie, too.

Speaking of Kevin, Sam looks around in search for the kid. He’s been away to call his mother up, but that has been over forty minutes ago. How long could anybody stay over the phone like that?

It’s probably all the same thing, too. ‘Are you safe, Kevin?’ or ‘Is your tattoo still on? Because they burnt mine off easily,’ or even ‘Don’t check out any girls, you don’t need the distraction!’

Sam kind of feels sorry for the guy, being controlled like that must really be exhausting. Mrs. Tran shouldn’t worry so much, though. Kevin’s biggest danger were demons, and they are gone. Nobody could really imagine the Angels killing him off, either, since they’re supposed to be protected by the Archangels – and now that there aren’t any of those left, the regular Angels must take that same responsibility.

Sam jumps out of his thoughts when all of the sudden another presence joins him at the table. At first he thinks it’s Dean, so he’s already preparing his series of curses and insults, but before the first word leaves his mouth, Sam’s voice stops upon seeing the person in front of him.

Or persons, rather, because there is more than one sitting across from him.

“Hello, Sam Winchester,” the calm voice of the man in front of him greets him, and Sam isn’t sure whether he should feel threatened or safe. Just to make sure he keeps his hand close to his gun underneath his shirt.

“Who are you?” he asks with his shoulders tensed, and the other one, the woman, looks up at him. Her dark blue eyes don’t let go of the stare they’re sharing. The way she’s watching him makes it clear to him that she must be an Angel; she stands there like how Cas used to stand back when they weren’t even friends, which is a real long time ago.

“We are Inias and Hannah,” the man introduces himself and then the woman. Sam vaguely recognizes the Angel – Inias – from a few years back. He was the one who came to get Kevin right after they found him.

“Yeah, okay,” Sam says gesturing the man to continue. He hasn’t seen another Angel since Castiel got banished from Heaven. He has to admit he’s kind of surprised to see these two here, in the same inn Dean and Castiel are staying at.

“There are some things we need to talk about, regarding the wedding of our brothers,” Inias begins, but Sam chuckles dryly. He feels the strong need to roll his eyes though.

“That’s rich,” he mutters. Inias and Hannah both tilt their heads to the side. “Great siblings _you_ are; your brother gets banished and all of the sudden you all go MIA.”

The two Angels at least have the decency to look ashamed at that, both of them lowering their gazes to their laps.

“That’s what I thought. What now, you mad because you didn’t get invited to the wedding? I’m sorry, they barely even wanted a real ceremony. It was hard enough to convince them to invite the guests that _are_ coming, I’m not sure I can manage to get all of you in, too.”

Inias seems to hesitate at first, though. This time it’s Hannah who continues.

“We are not here for that,” she tells him calmly, and after that she starts explaining.

 

* * *

 

 

_Missouri Valley, Saturday, June 7 th _

_Christian Church_

So, today is the big day.

It’s a usual spring day; mildly warm outside, sun shining happily in the sky, and almost no clouds to be spotted in the air. For a moment, Castiel thinks that Heaven has something to do with the good weather, but he know better. There’s no way the Angels would care enough about him to make sure the day is a beautiful one.

Still, he can’t help smiling up at the sky when he gets out of the car in front of the church. Dean, being his charming self, keeps the door open for him. Neither of them are dressed in their suits yet, but they have them lying neatly on the back seat.

“So this is it,” Dean says with a hesitant smile. Castiel nods at him and holds on to his hand.

“Indeed it is,” he tells him in return, wanting to kiss him now and then. Before he can do so, though, Dean is already reaching for the backseat to pick up the two suits, holding them in the air to check the name-tags.

“Listen, Cas, I don’t believe in all that crap about bad luck seeing each other before the wedding, but if you do, I’ll stay out of your way,” Dean tells him carefully. Castiel rolls his eyes lightly and takes over his suit.

“Technically, the legend about not be permitted to see each other before the wedding dates back to the arranged marriages, where the bride and the groom were not allowed to be near each other before the ceremony out of fear that one of them would change their minds.”

Dean blinks up at him a few times, but then he shakes his head and smiles again.

“You’re such a nerd,” he says, and then he presses a quick kiss on Castiel’s lips. “Don’t worry, there won’t be any change of minds here.”

Resting his forehead against Dean’s, Castiel chuckles.

“Neither will there be here.”

“Damn, we’re so gross,” Dean complains before wrapping his free arm around Castiel’s waist. “I still can’t really believe we’re actually going to do this.”

Castiel shakes his head lightly. The sun shines brightly on his neck, and he feels his skin warming up rather quickly. Of course, it doesn’t really bother him, and Dean seems to enjoy the warm temperature as well.

“If you would have told me one hundred years ago that one day I would marry a human being, I would have smitten you for blasphemy,” Castiel answers, and Dean chuckles hesitantly then. With another short kiss, the two finally separate and make their way to the church.

It’s a humble little church not that far from the inn. Sam chose the location a while back, respecting their wishes of keeping it all as little as possible. Neither Dean nor Castiel feel really comfortable having this enormous party to celebrate their union. Who is there to invite, too? Yeah, they could have asked some of their old friend, heck, even Cassie came up when Sam went over a list of possible guests. When they thought about it again, though, they realized that inviting Cassie wouldn’t be the wisest decision.

“Charlie and Dorothy arriving soon?” Dean asks while passing a big painting with a few Angels drawn on it. He inspects the piece, eyeing every single one of those Angels.

“Yes, I dropped them off at the inn. They should come with Sam.”

Dean nods and then smirks.

“This one looks like you,” he says, pointing at one of the little cherubs playing a harp. Castiel throws him an annoyed look and crosses his arms. He doesn’t answer, though, choosing instead to stare at his fiancé in order to make him comfortable. It doesn’t work, though, since Dean only smirks more.

“Ah, come on, babe, you’re getting married to this annoyed jerk, you’re gonna get more of these jokes the rest of… eh, well, eternity,” Dean laughs, wrapping one arm around Castiel’s hip. The Angel snorts loudly.

“If you joke further, I will withhold sex,” he threatens. He can see on Dean that it doesn’t catch, though.

“You? Withhold sex? _You’re_ the addict in this relationship, angel. The only one threatening with the withholding here will be me, I’m afraid.” Dean counters, and Castiel has to admit his defeat here, because that _is_ true.

Their discussion gets cut short when the pastor of the church, father Dalma, arrives. They greet each other, shake each other’s hands, and then they move forward to the back-office. Dean and Castiel both put down their suits on an empty desk near the door. After that, the both of them move towards the chairs in front of where Father Dalma is sitting.

“Now, you brought the marriage license with you?” the man asks, and Dean nods, reaching for the pocket of his jacket to fish out the envelope they put the paper in when they got it. Castiel notices how his hand is slightly shaking, and he can’t help but grin.

“Do I need to give it now? Or how…?” Dean doesn’t finish his sentence, but it looks like Father Dalma knows how to end that sentence. He makes a small gesture with his hand to indicate that he can keep the paper.

“You _can_ give it now, but it’s not required. After the ceremony, I will fill in the forms and hand them back to you so you can bring them to the office of the county clerk.” Dean nods lightly and leans back in his chair. Castiel’s hand finds his, and he squeezes to calm him down. He receives a thankful look in return.

“The vows are ready?” Father Dalma asks. Both men nod. “The best man has the rings?” Another nod. Then Father Dalma closes the folder that was open before him, and he stands up again. It’s then that Castiel notices the noises from the church. People. To his surprise he sees that it’s almost two ‘o clock when he checks the time. He sees Dean’s mouth falling open, probably going crazy from nervousness.

“It sounds like a few people have arrived. I suggest the two of you get dressed. I will sent your best men to the chambers when they arrive.” Father Dalma points towards the hallway after opening the door. Castiel sees a door for the supposed chambers a little further away. The two get up, pick up their suits, and then leave the office.

They catch a glimpse of the chairs and the stage, both of them mildly surprised when there seem to be more chairs decorated than anticipated.

“Don’t tell me the jerk invited all those people I told him _not_ to invite,” Dean mutters. Castiel rests his hand on his shoulder to calm him down, though.

“Come on, Dean. I’m sure it’s just a mistake,” he tries, pulling the hunter along to the room. Dean follows, obviously still scowling while he’s trying to put on his suit. By the time Castiel gets to his tie, Dean takes over again. Both of them know that the Angel is a little bit capable of doing the tie, but somehow it always ends up backwards. Castiel doesn’t mind, he enjoys watching Dean while he focuses on the knot. He can never grow tired of how beautiful Dean looks when he’s concentrating so hard on something.

By the time they’re both fully dressed, both Sam and Kevin get in, somehow looking nervous as well. They go over a small checklist to see if everything is in order, and after indicating that the rings are present as well, it’s quiet again. Only for a small moment, though, because Sam throws Kevin a pressing look, and suddenly the Prophet is speaking.

“Hey, Castiel, there’s something else I need to discuss with you,” he says hesitantly. Castiel frowns, especially when he sees how innocent Sam is trying to pretend to be.

“Everything you want to tell me, you can say in front of Dean,” Castiel says, unwilling to be separated from Dean as well. Kevin looks back at Sam uneasily, and the hunter sighs.

“Cas, could you please go with Kevin? I need to speak with Dean anyway. It’s really important.”

Somehow, the Angel feels a little irritated at that. What is so important that they need to talk about in private? Reluctantly, he stands up from where he’s sitting and he follows Kevin out of the room. The Prophet takes a turn to another chamber, the one right next to theirs, and he indicates for Castiel to get in.

“What’s going on, Kevin?” Castiel asks in annoyance, taking his time to get through the door. The moment he’s inside, though, his eyes widen in surprise. They’re not alone in the room, but that’s not what fazes him. It’s _who_ is standing there that makes him stand still.

“Heya, boy,” the ghost of Bobby Singer tells him. Castiel is sure he’s a ghost; he looks pale white, and is soul is that more brighter now that it’s not contained inside a human body. For a moment, he can’t find himself to speak. His mouth is dry, his voice gone, and he wants to ask so many questions. Behind him, Kevin is still standing quietly.

“Your brothers came to Sam a few days ago, pulled some strings, managed to get us down for your big day,” Bobby explains, walking towards Castiel and then pulling him into a hug. Still a little out of it, Castiel barely remembers to return the embrace.

“But, how?” he finally gets out, because the last time he went to see Azrael, there was no possible way he was going to convince her, yet here they are.

“We convinced her,” Inias suddenly says from next to him. Castiel turns in surprise, seeing the Angel standing there. He hasn’t seen him since his banishment. “When we heard you were banished, we went to Azrael, tried to change her mind. She said she had no possible way of taking back your sentence. It was then that we heard about the wedding, and your wish to bring these souls down for one day.

“So we talked to her, saying that she couldn’t deny _us_ anything. She agreed, consented, and so we managed to bring all your friends down for your marriage.”

Castiel turns to look back at Bobby for a moment, but now he can’t help but smile. The older man smiles back and squeezes his shoulder in reassurance.

“Now c’mon, let’s get your ass ready. I got myself an Angel to guide down the aisle,” Bobby said, and Castiel laughs. It’s time, anyway, so they make sure they have everything before leaving the room again. They’re standing in the foyer, now, where Dean, Sam and their parents are standing as well. Mary Winchester is hugging her son tightly. Castiel can see Dean hold on tightly to him as well.

“I’m so proud of you, son,” she tells him. When she notices Castiel standing there, she finally lets go of him and runs up to the Angel, wrapping him in her arms as well. “And I’m proud of you as well, Castiel.”

Castiel smiles again and hugs back. After that, he receives a handshake from John. They don’t speak anymore, but instead wait in silence for their cue. Sam, Kevin and John already get inside a little before their cue arrives. Dean crosses arm with Mary, and they leave first, marching towards that stage while greeting all the people they didn’t expect would arrive. Right before coming to stand before the altar, Dean guides his mother to her seat next to his father. He receives another kiss from her on his forehead, and after that he joins father Dalma, Sam and Kevin in the front. It’s then that Castiel and Bobby move forward as well. Castiel can see a few Angels sitting in the crowd as well. There still aren’t a lot of people – not as much as a normal ceremony would have – but still more than they would have intended. Somehow, Castiel figures Dean wouldn’t mind all that much. He passes Ellen and Jo, the psychic Pamela, the guy that must probably be Ash, and also Rufus Turner. Even Jessica Moore is a face he sees a little further away.

Before he knows it, Bobby lets go of him again and goes back to his seat next to his own wife. The two take a hold of their hands. Castiel can’t help the smile that comes on his face. Now he’s standing in front of Father Dalma, next to Dean. The music in the background lowers down now, and Father Dalma waits until he can begin.

“Dear friends and family, we are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the union of Dean Winchester and Castiel Wilson in marriage.”

The pair throws each other a small look and a light smile.

 

 

“In the years they have been together, their love and understanding of each other has grown and matured, and now they have decided to live their lives together as husbands.

“Ultimately there comes a moment when a decision must be made. Two people who love each other must ask themselves how much they hope for as their love grows and deepens, and how much risk they are willing to take.

“Commitment may well be a fearful gamble; because it is the nature of love to create, a marriage itself is something which has to be created, such that as we come together in marriage, we become a new creature.”

Castiel catches Dean throwing a look at Sam, who nods at him reassuringly.

“Dean and Castiel, today you chose each other before your family and friends, to begin your life together. For all the tomorrows that follow, you will choose each other over and again, in the privacy of your hearts.”

At that, Castiel catches Sam making a face and he can’t help but blush at the memory of Sam complaining about their loud evening a few days ago. So they need to work on their privacy a little bit. Castiel will try to remember that.

“Let your love and friendship guide you, as you learn and grow together. Experience the wonders of the world, even as patience and wisdom calm the restless nature. Through your partnership, triumph over the challenges in your path. Through the comfort of loving arms, may you always find a safe place to call home.”

By then, it’s time for their vows. Castiel figures that’s probably the reason why Dean is so nervous again all of the sudden. Father Dalma asks them who wants to go first, and when he sees Dean almost panicking, he offers to go first. Dean nods, and so he starts if off.

“Dean Winchester, my beloved. I had a sister who told me that when I first laid a hand on you in Hell, I was lost. I see now that she was right. Rescuing you from the fires of Hell had just been a mission by then, but upon seeing your soul for the first time, I realized you were different. Under difficult circumstances, I got to know you better. We’ve been through so many things together, too, and not all of them good. But in the end, we still stayed together despite everything that’s happened. Each time I see your soul, I am reminded of how bright it shines, how beautiful you truly are, even though you don’t want to hear that. I loved you back when I didn’t know what love was, I love you even more right now, and I am certain that I will still love you when both of us are residing back in Heaven. You are my light, my purpose, my reason to live.”

The whole time he’s been staring Dean right in the eyes, but he’s barely noticed the first tear that has started rolling over his cheek. It’s then that he can see Dean’s eyes are red and wet. Dean sniffs quickly, licks his lips lightly, and looks down to collect his nerves again. After that, their eyes meet again.

“Castiel,” he starts, obviously unused of speaking out his full name after all those years. “I won’t lie when I say that at first I thought you were just a dick.”

There’s laughing coming from the audience, and Castiel too can’t help but chuckle.

“Now, the way I was raised, it made it clear for me that there’s no escape from being a hunter. I’ve never been good in showing my emotions to others. I guess we had that in common when we first met each other.

“I guess I realized you weren’t like the other Angels when you rebelled from Heaven. In a way, I kind of knew back then how you really felt. Nobody abandons their family for just anybody. But it wasn’t the right time, I guess.

“It was in Purgatory, when I thought I’d lost you, that I realized you were more than just a friend. To quote you, we _do_ have a more profound bond. But after I found you again, I guess it wasn’t the right time and place either. And then, you were gone again, and this time when you returned, I just couldn’t find it in me anymore. I thought you were going to leave again, and you _were_.

“It’s ironic, though, that we both seemed to figure out what we wanted with the help from a Cupid. And everything after that has been a flash. We’ve grown together, we’ve had our small fights, but it has never stopped us from feeling what we’re feeling.

“And even though I’ve never been able to say the words before, I’m practically saying them now, in my own way.”

That’s the closest thing to an ‘I love you’ Castiel has ever gotten from Dean. No, it _is_ an ‘I love you’. Castiel can feel his heart beating faster, and even more so when Dean reaches behind him, holding out his hand to receive the ring from Sam.

“I give you this ring, a symbol of my feelings, as I give to you all that I am, and accept from you all that you are.” With that, Dean takes Castiel’s hand in his own and slides the golden ring on his finger. With his thumb he caresses his skin lightly before Castiel lets go to receive the ring from Kevin, too.

“I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness. As I place it on your finger, I commit my heart and Grace to you.”

There’s a small quirk on Dean’s face upon the mentioning of his Grace. Father Dalma smiles at them. A normal priest would have been confused from their vows. Father Dalma has had his own fair share of Demons in the past. It’s the reason they chose this exact church, as well.

Father Dalma starts speaking again, explaining the importance of the rings. Castiel doesn’t listen, though, instead paying all his attention to Dean. Their hands are still holding on to each other. Dean’s eyes are still wet with tears.

“Now, by the power vested in me by the State of Iowa, I hereby pronounce you husbands. You may now kiss.”

They meet each other halfway, running up to one another to get that kiss as quickly as possible. They keep it chaste, though. Dean’s hands are on Castiel’s cheeks, and Castiel’s are on the back of his neck. Castiel can feel the cold metal of the golden band against his skin, which makes him smile against Dean’s mouth. When Dean tries to pull back, Castiel leans forward more, demanding one more kiss, and then another one. Behind them, the crowd starts laughing again.

After that, they let go again. Dean goes to the inner pocket of his suit, and brings up the envelope from before, handing it to Father Dalma.

“Friends and family, to conclude this ceremony, will the designated witnesses please come forward and sign their names to the certificate of marriage.”

Next to them, Sam and Kevin move forward to the altar. Father Dalma opens up the letter and picks up his black pen, filling in the details necessary for completing this. After that, he hands the pen to Sam, who signs first. Then Kevin follows.

After that, the two get back to their place, and Father Dalma finishes the ceremony.

“Family and friends, I present to you, for the first time, Dean and Castiel Winchester.”

The audience starts applauding then, each of them standing up and cheering on as Dean and Castiel turn to them. Their hands are still holding on to each other.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_A few wedding pictures:_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the things I've written from the lisence-thing I took from a document I found online at some website about marriage in Iowa. There was a form there, and I based everything on that. If you're actually married or if you've ever been to one of those lisence-events and you find that there's ANYTHING wrong with how I've written it, please do tell me, because my information is still limited.  
> Any tips? Hated/loved it? Any questions about the story? Always feel free to leave a comment, because believe it or not, those light up my day like you couldn't believe!
> 
> Edit April 15th  
> I completely rewrote the wedding, because I hated it. I tried to go with it, to accept it, but I just couldn't. And it kept me from continuing the next chapter.  
> So here you go, completely different wedding!


	11. Don’t tell me you had sex in the pool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas are on their honeymoon, but meanwhile, what is Sam exactly doing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the sudden three week hiatus on the update. There are multiple reasons as to why it took so long, biggest one being that I hated the wedding chapter so much that I had to re-write it again since it literally kept me from writing this very chapter. So, before reading this one, please re-check the last chapter, right after the lisence-part. Everything's new from then on.  
> Other reasons I won't bother you with. This chapter is fully written in Sam's point of view for one. In the end, it's all just one big build-up, and believe me, Sam is going to have more girl-trouble in the future. But hey, I'll keep it light and funny.   
> Please, enjoy this chapter, because this one ends up the first part of the story. Next chapter will start part two, and we'll finally get to where this story has been leading up to!

_Men of Letters, Headquarters_

_June 23 rd_

Life goes on like it always has, except without Dean or Cas hanging around of course. Sam goes on a hunt, returns back to the bunker, and then starts a video-call with his brother to check how it’s going.

Before the pair left for their honeymoon, Dean asked Castiel to connect his mind with Sam’s just in case he would ever get in trouble. The link is only limited to extreme pain, but at least that way Sam knows he’s somehow protected.

He joins other hunters on their cases since Dean practically forbade him to go alone. The cases are always small ones, too, so there’s never really _big_ danger for Sam. Still, every time he returns back inside the safe walls of the bunker, he can’t help but feel exhausted and more often than not frustrated at the lack of dialogue with his brother.

This isn’t the longest they’ve been apart, not even by far, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck any less. That’s why, when he finally arrives home again, Kevin wisely avoids the ‘how was the case?’ question and instead starts up the laptop to find a new connection with the newlyweds, who are currently _again_ on another unknown location. That, or they decided to stay in Peru a little while longer.

While he hears the call get through, Sam indicates Kevin that he’s getting something to eat. Kevin holds his thumb up in an agreeing signal, so Sam leaves the room again, heading straight to the kitchen.

Crowley is still sitting at the table, reading what looks like a magazine. A Celebrity Gossip magazine. Sam can’t help but snort, which earns him glary eyes from the ex-king of Hell.

“Sorry, man, just didn’t peg you for the type to be interested in Hollywood,” Sam mumbles, pointing at the large picture of Johnny Depp and his current girlfriend – or is it wife already? – Amber Heard. Crowley turns his back towards Sam without speaking, acting more like a busted teenager instead of a man that used to be quite a powerful demon.

It’s almost strange how things turn out, Sam figures, pushing in the button to the coffee machine. In the fridge he gets out one of those pastries Mrs. Tran probably baked. Suddenly, Sam wonders where the woman is. He’s actually surprised she’s even still here, instead of resuming her old life with Kevin now that the threat of psychopathic kings of Hell trying to kill him to get information is gone.

“In case you wanted to know, a new _Hell Hazers_ movie is coming out next week,” Crowley mutters when Sam’s coffee is finished brewing. The hunter lifts up an eyebrow at the sudden information thrown his way, having to think back to where he’s heard that name before.

“Oh, no way, you mean that movie Dean and I worked a case on? The movie that sucked even more than _The Last Airbender_?” Sam asks, coming to stand behind Crowley to read along. “Man, that movie shouldn’t have gotten a sequel in the first place! So what now, a third movie?”

“My my, Moose has been absent from show business-news for a while now? It’s the fifth movie, dimwit.”

Sam pointedly ignores the insult and instead groans loudly, holding tight to his freshly made cup of coffee. He takes his little piece of cake along out of the kitchen, leaving Crowley alone again. The ex-demon probably doesn’t mind that, though.

Kevin is already talking to Dean and Cas when Sam arrives. Sam doesn’t hurry up, offering the Prophet some time to catch up with them again. Instead, Sam takes a few large gulps from his coffee, biting a big piece out of the cake, before dropping it all down on the table and joining Kevin on the computer.

“Look who it is, Mr. and Mr. Winchester!” Sam greets out the same way he’s always started their phone calls. At first it had flustered Dean, making him see red in the face and all that, but now it only earns him a small ‘ha-ha’ and another eye roll.

_“Heya Samsquatch,”_ Dean says on the other side of the screen. Sam can see his brother sitting behind his computer, with his Angel-husband next to him. They look happy, and Sam is not sure if the bronzed skin is just a result of bad image, or if Dean has really tanned up on his trip.

“Wow, you look like you’ve been to the solarium!” Sam says, quite impressed at the way his brother looks. Dean just shrugs lightly.

“ _Ah, well, there’s a lot of sun here,”_ Dean says. Castiel nods in agreement.

“Where is _here_ this time?” Sam asks, wanting to know the answer to that question all day.

“ _Just the Maldives.”_ Dean says it as if it’s nothing, but there’s still a light smirk on his face. He picks up something from what must be the table their laptop is resting on, and then Sam can see him drinking something out of a coconut. After that, Castiel gets to the other straw as well, closing his eyes as he drinks.

“ _Just_ the Maldives, Dean? That’s where the celebrities go, it’s so freaking expensive to even get a plane ticket!”

_“Ah, well, those credit card scams work wonders, don’t they?”_

At that, Sam can see Castiel punching Dean lightly in the chest, causing the hunter to release the straw of his drink. He throws his husband a light glare and rubs his skin where it hurts.

“ _We’re not using credit cards; the Angels that still consider me as a friend sponsored this very trip.”_

Sam chuckles, Kevin does the same. It’s always good to see the two acting like an old married couple already, though it hasn’t even been three weeks yet.

“Ah, you’re so cute,” Kevin says next to Sam, causing Dean to blush even harder than before.

“ _Thank you, Kevin,”_ Cas answers, completely oblivious of Dean reaction. It causes for Sam and Kevin to laugh even harder. Then suddenly, the Prophet yawns loudly, stretching his arms above his head and groaning as he pulls at his limbs.

“ _Whoa, you sound tired,_ ” Dean says worriedly. Sam, too, takes a closer look at Kevin next to him. He does look a little tired, pale, even.

“Yeah, been having nightmares, strange images. Been giving me massive headaches right after waking up,” Kevin says, wildly passing his hand through his hair and scratching his other arm.

“Could be some weird Prophet-stuff?” Sam asks, pointing the question more toward Castiel on the other side of the screen instead of Kevin. The Angel inspects Kevin with squinted eyes, completely unmoving. It’s a little weird, seeing him so concentrated.

“ _That shouldn’t be possible; Kevin’s task as a Prophet was to translate the tablets, while Chuck’s was to write the gospels. I’m not sure why he’s suddenly showing symptoms of visions,”_ Castiel says lowly. Kevin and Sam throw each other a short look, and then the Prophet swallows loudly.

“ _The images? What were they?”_ Dean asks, shuffling a little closer to his screen.

“I don’t know, I always forget right after waking up. All I remember is a bright light, like something divine,” Kevin explains while making weird hand gestures. “It feels like it’s just a build-up to something important, but I just don’t know what.”

They remain silent after that, obviously all of them thinking of what it could possibly be. It’s only when Sam looks back at the camera, and sees the hotel room behind the newlyweds, that he remembers what they were calling for.

“Hey, no, no, you’re not looking into this. You’re on a honeymoon. Leave the research to us back in the bunker. You can rejoin us when you’re back home,” Sam says, pointing towards Dean with his index finger. Next to him, Kevin nods in agreement.

“ _Are you sure? We could help,”_ Castiel asks in concern, but Sam doesn’t want to hear any of it. He shakes his head, causing Castiel to stop trying.

“Also, Dean, they’re making a new Hell Hazer’s movie! It’s the fifth now, apparently.” Sam can’t help the disgusted face he makes when he reveals this little bit of news. Instead of looking shocked, Dean grins widely.

“ _Hey, isn’t that the movie we worked a case on? With that actress I-?”_ Dean stops himself before he can continue the sentence, which is probably for the best because Castiel throws him an angry look. “ _That actress I got a signature from_?” He then finishes instead, a little hesitantly.

Sam and Kevin snort, both of them finding Castiel’s reaction golden. The Angel has his arms crossed over his chest, and a massive frown on his forehead. He looks truly insulted, somehow. Then, the Angel stands up from where they’re seated, going out of the view of the camera.

_“Oh, come on, babe! That was then!”_ Sam sees Dean call out with his arms raised in the air. The hunter stands up as well, then, joining Castiel where-ever he’s going. After that, Sam and Kevin are left with an empty view on the screen. Both can’t help but laugh at the two, pressing their hands in front of their mouths to keep it quiet.

“Someone’s not gettling laid, tonight,” Kevin mutters quietly, and Sam thinks he has to agree to that. He closes the screen of the laptop, ending the call right after adding a little goodbye-message for his brother to read when he remembers they were calling. After that, he leans back in his chair, watching Kevin closely. The Prophet seems to sense the sudden attention paid to him because he suddenly seems to shiver.

“Stop staring,” he tells him, and Sam complies, turning his head towards the opposite direction. For a minute there’s an awkward silence, neither of them really knowing what to talk about together. Sam fumbles a little bit with his fingers, digging through his memories from a few weeks ago.

He remembers talking to his parents again after all those years, but seeing Jessica again has shaken him up as well.

At first, somehow, it had been embarrassing. Of course, she knew what he’s been doing since her death; she’s been keeping an eye on him. Where he was afraid she was going to hate him for all his wrongs, instead she praised him for all the good he’s done.

After that, things were as if the years in between them had never happened. He introduced her properly to Dean this time, and meeting Castiel had been a pleasure for her as well. During the whole ceremony they kept shooting glances at each other, and more often than not both of them looked away blushing, having caught each other staring.

They danced together at the reception in the end, and for a moment, Sam had forgotten that she would be leaving again. He held on to tight again, which made it even more heartbreaking when they had to part again.

“ _Don’t stay stuck on the past,_ ” she had told him right before being taken away by the Angels, back to Heaven. Full bitterness, Sam had then realized that she wanted him to move on.

Most of the time he just wishes they had never brought her down. He had moved on, there have been other girls since her death, but just seeing her back for those few hours had suddenly put him back in that place full of grief and anger.

He would never admit it to Dean, but that’s the reason he wants to hunt so much again; he needs the distraction, to stop thinking about Jess all the time because the ache that had faded away over the years is now back again. The moment Dean and Cas left for their honeymoon he called up one of Bobby’s older friends, Irv Franklin, and asked for a job. The hunter had directed him towards a vampire nest, where he met up with Pete. That hunt had been short, so right after that he asked for another one, and after that another one.

He’s only gone home now because Irv didn’t have anything to give him this time. That, and Dean has been barking orders at him to get his ass back in the bunker. Sam isn’t really one to follow on orders, but this time he just complied to get Dean to shut up.

Sam gets out of his thoughts when he catches a faint scent of how he smells. He should really go get a shower to get the whole past day off of himself. With a short hand gesture he greets Kevin again, getting up from his chair to exit the room.

His shower is short, the water hasn’t even fully warmed up yet when he already gets back out. It’s all he can do to avoid thinking about Jess again. Every moment he doesn’t occupy himself, his mind wanders back to her. He could just shout it out to the Angels, willing to curse them for even bringing her down without giving her the opportunity to stay permanently.

So instead, he towels himself off, goes to the mirror to shave his small scruff, and then rejoins Kevin again, the whole while forcing himself to think about vampires and shape shifters. He would do _anything_ to get a new case before the day ends.

There isn’t much to be done in the Bunker. Sam picks up the idea to make a reference-list from all the books in the library, but gives up after going through three books. Instead he then decides to check out all the artifacts they are keeping in the room next to the dungeon.

It’s only when he’s downstairs, holding the fifth thing he’s looked at in his hands, that he remembers he’s done this already with Dean when they first came upon this place.

What else is there to do, then? Sam groans in boredom, slapping his hands together to stay distracted. Maybe he could try calling Dean or Cas again? But then again, they are probably going at it at the moment, so Sam wouldn’t want to disturb him.

Instead, he decides it isn’t a bad idea to go into town for a while. They could stock up a little bit on the food here, and it wouldn’t hurt to check out a few new books to add to their library. So Sam stands up from where he’s seated, passing Kevin who’s angrily cursing at the Angel Tablet – Sam had forgotten he’s still trying to translate that. Heck, he’d even forgotten they still _had_ that thing in the first place. It appears that they have been distracted quite a lot this last year.

Sam hesitates for a moment before entering the Impala, thinking about using one of those other cars currently parked in the garage. He would have taken them, but there’s a possibility they could give up on the way, and he isn’t even half as good as Dean is when it comes to repairing cars. Without thinking too much about it, Sam exits the garage of the bunker, getting on the road directing to the town.

There isn’t much to do in the center of the town. The streets are mostly empty, and all in all there isn’t much life in here. Sam hesitates between going to the library or the mall, first. After a few minutes of hesitation behind the steering wheel, he finally chooses on the mall, getting the car back in movement and finding his way to the parking lot.

Now that he’s here, he realizes he should have asked Kevin or Mrs. Tran what exactly he needs to stock up on. He knows they could use some fresh bread – somebody goes to the nearest bakery every two days, and Sam is sure he didn’t see a new bag earlier today. He mentally goes through everything he could possibly buy and goes to get a cart.

Passing through the aisles doesn’t distract him as much as he’d hoped. He finds himself tense all the time, unable to calm the storm inside his mind. He picks up the goods with much more force than actually is necessary, and almost hits his cart to an angry-looking mom trying to catch up with her loud children.

“Better watch out where you park that thing,” a British voice says behind him. Sam has never heard this woman before in his life, and when he turns around to face her, he sees a face unfamiliar to him.

It isn’t an ugly face, though.

“Excuse me?” Sam asks in confusion, not at all unhappy with what he’s seeing in front of him. Okay, yeah, since the wedding he’s been having a few flings with women after a hunt, so sue him. Dean’s been doing it practically since he was seventeen, why wouldn’t Sam be allowed to do it, either?

“You should better be careful, before she sues your perky ass for assault,” she adds, showing a toothy grin. Sam takes a good look at her, noting that she must be from Hispanic descent. She has long black locks of hair, and she’s wearing a short dress with a turtleneck, which would have been ridiculous with any other person, but just seems to fit her perfectly.

“Why would you care?” Sam asks, unintentionally flirting with the woman standing in front of him. He doesn’t even know her name. It’s probably the strong gaze from her chocolate brown eyes that seems to lure him in.

“Well, wouldn’t want to have to represent your case, of course. Or just imagine I would have to represent her? Then things would just get awkward,” the woman says. When she smiles again, Sam can see that she has a little bit of an underbite. It gives her face a little bit of a square-ish form. She has strong cheekbones, but her cheeks are a little bit hollow.

“So I take you’re a lawyer?” Sam asks in surprise, though he’s able to mask it enough. The woman nods lightly, and then she smirks.

“How about you, hotshot? Tall individual like you, must be a firefighter or something hot like that, right?” She leans back against her cart for a little bit, taking in Sam’s figure. He can’t help his cheeks coloring red in embarrassment.

“Uh, no, no firefighter,” Sam says. He notices his hand is stuck scratching in his hair so he pulls his arm back. The woman lifts up an eyebrow, but the amusement doesn’t escape her face. Meanwhile, the mother with her children has moved along to the next aisle.

“Huh, how about you can tell me all of your secrets over dinner? How about tonight, eight ‘o clock, at _L’Europe_?” the woman suddenly asks while taking a step forward, crowding closer to Sam. Her fingers lightly poke over his chest, and she barely looks up at him. Sam notes that she’s quite tall, in comparison to other girls he’s ever talked to in his life.

Normally, Sam’s first instinct would have been to say no. There’s no way he’s dragging an innocent woman into the life he’s having. But lately, there hasn’t been much reason for him to keep avoiding these kinds of things. There are no more demons to speak of, so his danger-rate has dropped quite a lot.

“I guess I’ll see you there,” Sam says, unable to stop himself from agreeing with her proposition. The woman smiles, then, looking down on the floor. Then, she returns to her cart and starts walking forward, slightly swinging her hips as she moves.

“Hey, can I at least know your name?” Sam calls out when he suddenly remembers he has no idea what she’s called. The woman turns around towards him and grins.

“Huh, well, that might be one of those secrets we’ll pass along tonight?” she answers mysteriously, and after that, she turns to the left, disappearing from his view.

Okay, so somehow, he’s gotten himself a date with a _beautiful_ woman without even trying. Even now, he doesn’t really have an idea how it all happened. One minute, he was being chewed out by a grumpy mom, and right after that she suddenly appeared.

Sam tenses all of the sudden. What was he even thinking? She could as well be a shapeshifter, or a werewolf (please, not again)… She could just try to lure him into a trap. Quickly, Sam reaches for his wallet, searching for any silver coin. It might not clear from being a vampire or something, but silver could cross out many other monsters she could possibly be.

Sam leaves his cart and starts running towards where he saw her disappear. He passes the angry mother again, though this time when she starts chewing him out, he ignores her completely, instead needing to find this woman again.

She’s right at the checkout, waiting for her products to be scanned. Pardoning himself, he passes all the other customers, trying hard to reach her before she could leave.

“Hey!” he calls out right when she wants to take out her card for payment. The woman looks up and smiles again when she sees him. “You dropped this earlier!” Sam holds out his hand without showing the coin. Without hesitation, but with a frown, the woman reaches out for what he’s handing her, and when the piece drops in the palm of her hand, he checks for her reaction.

There’s no reaction, just an inspecting gaze as she turns the coin around. She huffs out a breath and looks back up to Sam.

“Thank you, beautiful stranger,” she says, reaching forward to press a soft kiss on his cheek, which is completely surprising to him. His mouth falls open in surprise. “Eight, _L’Europe_ , don’t forget,” she then reminds him. After that, she focuses back to the cashier to pay for her products. The customers now standing behind him look at him angrily for still standing there.

Clumsily, he walks out of the line, trying to relocate his cart to continue his shopping. When he gets back to the bunker, he should probably find out where that restaurant is.

After ten more minutes of shopping, Sam goes to checkout as well to pay for all his stuff, deciding that he won’t go to the library. It’s already late in the afternoon, and if he’s completely honest he won’t find the concentration to focus on all the books he’s been intending to read.

On his way back to the bunker, Sam starts when his cellphone suddenly starts ringing. He tries to dig out the device from his pocket and answers it without checking who it is.

“Yeah?” He doesn’t need to clarify who he is. Only a handful of people have this number, so if they call, it couldn’t be for anybody else but him.

“ _Hey Sam? Its Irv here! You asked me to call you if I stumbled upon another case?”_ the person on the other line asks. Sam straightens up then, nodding even though Irv couldn’t see it.

“Yeah, that’s true. You have something for me?”

_“Yeah, Alpena, Michigan, kids disappearing in a forest. I already got a hunter on the job, but she needs backup,”_ Irv explains. Sam sighs it out and presses a hand on his forehead when he reaches a red light. Of course there would be a hunt the moment he’s found something to do on the evening.

“Yeah, okay, I’m on it,” Sam says, though a little bit defeated. He starts driving a little bit too late when the light turns green and a car starts honking behind him. “Just send in the details and I’ll check it out.”

Around five, Sam is already on a plane to Michigan.

At eight thirty, a young woman leaves the restaurant _L’Europe_ in full disappointment.

 

* * *

 

 

_Alpena, Michigan, Days Inn Alpena  
That evening._

“You have to be shitting me?” a young woman calls out after opening the door of her motel room. She looks like she’s in her early twenties, barely old enough to be hunting in Sam’s opinion. She should be in school, making something of her life.

“Excuse me?” Sam asks in confusion, not really having expected that reaction from a girl he’s never met before. The girl angrily moves aside, making room for Sam to walk in to the motel room she’s gotten for herself.

“Of all the hunters Irv could have sent, he sends you?” the girl mutters, more to herself than to Sam. She marches towards her bed and drops down, pointing at the files she’s stacked on her bed. Sam hesitates a little bit before walking forward.

“Sorry, Irv never really passed along your name?” Sam says quietly while taking the first file in his hands. The girl barely looks up from the knife she’s toying with when she answers.

“Tracy Bell,” she says, but that name doesn’t mean anything to him. Somehow, this girl he’s never met before already has a grudge against him. Sam wants to ask about it, but he isn’t sure if that’s a good idea, so instead he focuses on the papers on the desk.

First missing kid was an eight year old boy, went back home from his friend’s house but never arrived at his destination. Then there’s a case of three kids at the same time; all three of them playing around in the forest, never returning back home at their curfew.

There are multiple more cases like these, but to Sam’s biggest surprise there are also a few adults missing as well. From what Irv had told him over the phone, the children had been a pattern. Sam could have done a lot with that, too.

“Latest vic; Ryan Hemsman, 36 years old. I just got his name in from the police. Was planning on interviewing the wife tomorrow morning,” Tracy says when she sees Sam eyeing the last report. The hunter looks up at her in surprise, but then nods.

“Okay, interview tomorrow. Have you found any leads on what it might possibly be?” Sam finally sits down on the chair at the desk. It’s still a safe distance away from this girl who seems to have a grudge on him somehow, despite them never even meeting before.

“None so far. It could be a Wendigo that has travelled far, but it might as well be just a bear or something.”

Wendigo is indeed a possibility, but if it’s the latter, then they don’t really have any business here. After giving the reports one last once-over, Sam nods and comes to stand up again.

“I’ll get myself a room,” he reveals, but Tracy doesn’t look up at him. She barely even nods in understanding or anything. Sam doesn’t like the atmosphere in the room all that much, so he takes practically no time in disappearing out of it.

The next morning Sam and Tracy find themselves Mrs. Hemsman‘s living room. She’s offered them a cup of coffee, and while Tracy friendly refused one, Sam happily drinks from his. His night had been rough, painted with mixed images going from Jess looking at him in some sort of sadness, and that woman he met yesterday, sitting alone in a restaurant Sam’s never been to before. This interview couldn’t start soon enough, in Sam’s opinion.

Now that he’s finally here, he enjoys another sip from his cup before starting to talk.

“Now Mrs. Hemsman, prior to your husband’s disappearance, have you noticed anything strange? Or out of the ordinary?”

Mrs. Hemsman, a little red in the face from being at the verge of crying again, nods lightly. She looks like she’s thinking back about something she must have seen.

“Yeah, he’s been acting strange the whole week,” she answers to him. She then takes another tissue to dry her eyes again, obviously not wanting to show tears in front of these two strangers. “He was on edge most of the time, as if someone was following him. I never saw anybody.”

“Did your husband say what someone looked like?” Tracy asks gently. Mrs. Hemsman opens her mouth, but closes it again right after that. Both hunters notice it, though. That’s indication that she knows something but is afraid that it might sound crazy.

“Don’t worry, you can tell us,” Sam reassures her, and Tracy next to him nods. Mrs. Hemsman then akes a deep breath and silently clears her throat.

“He said it was a very tall, white man with a suit,” she answers carefully. “And he kept mentioning how he had no face.”

Sam and Tracy throw each other a confused look clearly neither of them knowing what the hell she’s talking about. They thank Mrs. Hemsman after that, shaking her hand before leaving the house again. They then get to Tracy’s rental car, making their way back to the motel.

“Have you ever heard of a creature that is tall, white, wears a suit and has no face?” Sam asks carefully to the girl sitting next to him in the passenger’s seat. Tracy shakes her head in denial, but then she seems to hesitate.

“Well, yeah, a few years back, when I was still in school, me and my friends used to play this game on the computer. The monster fits the description, though I’m not sure why the character from a game would suddenly start attacking monsters in a forest.”

Sam parks the car after arriving at the parking lot, and when he looks back up, Tracy is already making her way to her room, hastily unlocking the door to storm inside. At least she left it open for him to enter as well.

“Tracy?” he asks in confusion, but Tracy holds up her finger to silence him, so he does. The girl dives right behind her laptop, furiously typing away on the keyboard.

“I think it could be a tulpa,” she then suddenly says, looking up at Sam and turning the laptop. Sam walks forward to check the screen, finding a name written in a font that is supposed to look scary.

_Slenderman_.

“Oh, no, you have to be kidding me?” Sam groans, remembering coming across the Slenderman lore a few times while researching other monsters. He’s never thought that it could be a real monster walking around, so he never even considered it. It’s all too much of a Thinman-lookalike, and that one had been a bust too.

Sam drops down on the other chair at the desk and goes through his hair in exasperation. Tracy returns to her laptop to do some more research. The only sound in the room is the clicking of the touchpad. Sam eyes Tracy subtly, finding her face hard and concentrated while she does her research. 

“There isn’t much lore on how Slenderman came to exist. He’s just always been there, according to the lore.” Tracy keeps on looking and barely even looks up as she speaks. After she seems to have found what she’s looking for, she pulls a notepad to her and starts noting things down.

“And are there any weaknesses known?” Please, say yes, _please_ , say yes. Sam can’t help but mentally pray for luck in this very case.

“Sadly, no. Only his abilities are put here. But look at this!”

Sam moves forward to join her behind the screen. Tracy visibly pulls back a little from his sudden closeness, but at least she keeps the bitterness out of it. Instead she moves her finger to the screen.

“It’s a public page, meaning that _anybody_ can edit the content. If we add a random weakness of our own, maybe it’ll catch on?”

Sam agrees then, hoping that it will work. Seven children and one adult has already gone missing, and if they don’t stop it anytime soon, more of them could come. So he signals for Tracy to go on and add a random weakness they could have by hands at that moment.

So Tracy writes down; Slenderman is allergic to iron and salt – the usual – and he can be killed with a bullet in the head. It’s simple, but it’s all they need to make this case happen more easily. After finishing up her sentence, Tracy leans back in her chair and passes the back of her hand along her forehead. Then she casts one glance at Sam, who carefully does the same back.

“Okay, let’s not do this,” Tracy says while standing up again. She makes her way to the refrigerator and pulls out a bottle of beer, not even bothering to hand one to Sam too. He doesn’t mind, though.

“Do what?” he asks innocently. He’s lived with Dean long enough to know what exactly she means. It’s a way of saying ‘ _I really need to talk about it, but I just don’t want to’_ , and Sam’s grown immune to that one long ago.

“This thing where you tell me your sad past, and then I’ll tell yours, and after finishing this case we’ll just follow the horizon, hand in hand.” Tracy drops herself down on her bed to pick up a magazine, trying to shield Sam away. Sadly for her, he knows well enough how to handle these situations.

“I wasn’t going to tell you my sad past,” Sam says dryly while shrugging. That earns him an angry glare from Tracy, though he doesn’t know why.

“Good, because I don’t want to hear it. Now let’s go check out that forest.”

Her eagerness to get back out of the motel-room is the most obvious thing in the room. For a minute, he agrees. Going into a forest in search for the most ridiculous tulpa in the world beats hanging out in this room with a girl who seems to hate him more than the plague.

But going in action too soon might be the last thing they’d ever do. The false weaknesses of the Slenderman have to spread first throughout the crowd before they actually have a shot at killing a monster that is supposedly impossible to kill.

“I think we should better go tonight,” Sam says. “But hey, to make things easier for you, I’ll go to my room. I need to call up with my brother, anyway.”

And without waiting for any response, Sam is out of his chair and making his way back to the door of the motel. Young girls and their moods have always been such a mystery for Sam. One moment, this girl is all professional and all, and then the next moment she’s chewing him out for just breathing.

He can’t help but sigh in frustration when the connection is made to the internet. The receptionist had been so friendly to pass on the password when he checked in, but he still had to have three attempts for accidentally writing it wrong. Curse small keyboards and his large hands.

When the image of his brother appears before him, Sam can’t help but smile at him. Dean looks happier than Sam has ever seen him before, and just seeing his face makes him miss him even more. His hair looks wet, as if he’s just been into the water, and he isn’t wearing a shirt – which is extremely normal in a temperature like he’s probably having there.

_“Heya, Sam,”_ Dean says, sounding a little out of breath. So far Castiel hasn’t appeared on screen, but he could be God knows where.

“You just ran a marathon or what?” Sam asks, only then noticing the reddish blush on his brother’s cheeks. Dean looks down for a moment, and chuckles in embarrassment. When he reaches behind him to scratch his neck, Sam is almost afraid of the answer. Maybe there’s a reason why Cas hasn’t shown u yet.

As if on cue, Castiel appears in the background, wearing nothing but a towel around his hips. In the bad imagery from the computer, Sam can see that his skin is wet as well.

“Don’t tell me you had sex in the pool,” Sam mutters, causing Castiel to turn around in surprise. His face lightens up as well upon noticing Sam, and he comes closer to sit down next to Dean.

“ _Hello, Sam,”_ Castiel greets him, right before Dean starts talking.

“ _Of course not, Sam! We didn’t have sex in a pool, come on!”_

At that point, Castiel shoots Dean a surprised look, meaning that Dean is lying. Sam can’t help but burst out in laughter when he sees Castiel’s face. Without even knowing Cas can be the perfect lie-detector around people, but most of all he can point out Dean’s lies.

“Oh gross, guys!” Sam calls out, making a disgusted face in between his laughs. “Other people swim in there!”

_“Well, we didn’t leave anything in the water, in case that’s you’re worrying about_ ,” Castel says flatly. Dean squirms and presses a hand on the Angel’s mouth to shut him up. By now, Sam is hysterical – but also a little bit disgusted, too, though.

“ _Anyway!”_ Dean calls out without removing his hand from Castiel’s face. “You’re not in the bunker? Working another case?”

Sam nods while looking around him. Out of habit, he’s asked for a room with two beds. So now there’s one used bed, and another were he’s just dropped his stuff.

“Yeah, it cost me a date, too,” Sam says bitterly, more to himself rather than to his brother. Of course, Dean hears it right away, and the interrogation has already started.

“ _A girl? What was her name? What did she look like? Was she hot? Come on, Sam! Don’t leave us in the dark!”_ he just keeps on rambling on, and it’s only with Cas pressing his hand on Dean’s mouth in return that the hunter stops talking. Sneakily, Sam presses on the screenshot-button, pasting the image of the two with their hands on the other’s mouths in a paint-document. It could be great blackmail-material.

“Don’t know her name,” Sam says, leaning back a little in his chair, trying to look nonchalant about it all. Dean knows how much his reunion with Jess had hurt, so it’s only normal he’s so enthusiastic about it.

_“Sam, you sly dog!”_ Dean calls out in amusement after both of them drop their hands, instead entwining their fingers together. It’s almost so adorable that it’s gross, and Sam can’t help but divert his eyes a little.

“Shut up,” Sam retorts. “She’s a lawyer in Lebanon, Kansas. Easy to find her again.” On the screen, both Dean and Cas nod in agreement, right before looking at each other in such adoration that it takes Sam a second to remind himself it’s really his brother in front of him.

“ _So, what’re you hunting?”_ Dean asks after a while of staring into his Angel’s eyes. Sam groans in frustration and throws his hands in the air.

“You won’t believe it! A _Tulpa_ , in the form of – prepare yourselves – slenderman!”

“ _No way,_ the _Slenderman?”_ Dean asks in disbelief. He’s crawled closer to the screen. “ _Man, I almost wish I was there to hunt him with you! Who wouldn’t want to kill off Slenderman?”_

Oh, yeah, Sam forgot. Dean sometimes sneakily played the game, in the dark. Whenever Sam would hear a random screech in Dean’s room, it would be because Slenderman would have suddenly appeared or something.

“Well, I’ll make sure to go get his signature,” Sam tells him dryly, knowing very well his face indicates that he’s so done about this. This whole slenderman-idea is just a joke, and children are going missing because of it. “Also, the girl I’m hunting with seems to be the captain of my hate-club. One moment she’s easy enough to work with, the other moment I actually fear that she might randomly break my nose!”

_“Ah, Sam with girl-trouble. It’s adorable!”_ Dean says to him. Then he turns towards Cas and rests a hand on the Angel’s arm. Castiel looks at him in adoration again, which makes Sam’s inside twitch a little bit.

“Listen, you two are on your honeymoon; that’s no time to listen to my problems. Just enjoy your time together and come back home safely, okay?” Sam says, noticing how Dean practically glows when Sam says ‘home’ for what would probably be the first time.

“ _Call us if there’s any trouble, okay?_ ” Dean asks worriedly, to which Sam simply nods with a light smile on his face. He waves lightly to his brother and Cas, and then ends the call with a click from his mousepad. Right afterward, Sam leans back in his chair and passes rubs his whole face hard to awaken himself a little bit more. He could probably go into town, try and get things out of the friends of the missing children. Tracy probably already had it covered, but it wouldn’t hurt to catch up some things too, right? So Sam stands up, walks towards the bed he’s dropped his bag on, and searches for his suit. Only after digging through his clothes for thirty seconds does he remember that he’s already in his suit.

“You’re such an idiot, Sam,” the hunter mumbles to himself. After that, he closes down the lid of the laptop and hides it away under his pillow. No need for the damn thing to be stolen by not being careful.

He stops by before Tracy’s motel room, tapping the door lightly. There’s no answer on the other side, but he doesn’t want to risk it to walk inside uninvited and ending up with a bullet in his skull, so he just waits a little longer.

Eventually, Tracy opens the door, looking a little surprised at Sam’s sudden appearance. The surprise doesn’t last long, though, quickly enough turning back into a sour expression.

“Yeah, what?” she asks none-too-friendly. Sam swallows and looks down.

“I’m going to interview the children one last time. Mind if I take your car?” he asks. Tracy eyes him for a while with a strange look on her face that Sam can’t place right away. Then she turns back into the room, leaving the door open. Sam can see her walk to the table to pick up the keys, and after handing them to him, she hesitates before closing the door again.

“I’m not sure what you think you’ll find, though. The kids don’t know anything,” Tracy says. Sam just shrugs lightly before turning away.

“You’ll never know, right?” he asks, chuckling lightly. There’s a small smile appearing on Tracy’s lips right before turning back into a scowl. Now _that_ is sign enough for Sam that she couldn’t hate him all _that_ hard.

 

* * *

 

 

_That evening_

The moment the sun started setting, Sam and Tracy were on the move; gearing up on their weapons, collecting up some flashlights, and just to be sure there’s salt in Sam’s duffle, and Ruby’s knife as well.

As silently as they can, they walk around in the forest. They barely move forward, though, letting their flashlight shine over literally _every_ tree they find.

“I hope these flashlights get through this whole thing,” Tracy mutters a little further away from Sam.

“Maybe we should just go with one flashlight for now, and keep the other one as a spare?” he tries, already working on packing up his own. In the corner of his eyes, he can see Tracy nod lightly.

“It’s like in the game, only we’re smart enough to bring two of them,” she mumbles jokingly, somehow letting loose a little bit after all that time of holding a weird kind of grudge against him. For a moment, Sam wants to ask what caused for her to hate him so much. He needs to know if there’s anything he can do to help her, but coming to think of it, this _really_ isn’t the right time for this. So he lets it go, now holding his shotgun in both his hands while trying to avoid making noise.

“I’m pretty sure it already knows we’re here,” Sam mutters, turning around so fast that it drives his head spinning. He could have sworn he saw something white there, but now that he takes a closer look, there’s nothing there.

“He’s probably already chasing us,” Tracy adds, now turning too after hearing a twig snap next to her. The light shines on an empty spot in between trees, and then suddenly, a rabbit jumps out of the bushes and hops away. Both of them startle from the animal’s sudden appearance, but then they chuckle lightly. Sam tries to will his heart to still, and it’s then that he sees it.

Something white, stuck against the tree.

“Tracy, shine over there, will you?” Sam asks, pointing towards the white thing he can’t un-see anymore. Tracy complies, moving over her flashlight. Just to be sure, Sam prepares his shotgun, pointing it towards where Tracy is shining.

“I’ll be damned,” Tracy mutters after they’ve reached the tree. She picks up what appears to be a piece of paper. Sam can’t really read what is written on it until Tracy points her light directly on it.

_HELP ME_

The two hunters turn towards each other with wide eyes. Sam knows about the whole ‘collect-the-papers’-stuff, but he wouldn’t have thought this tulpa would have thought it out so thoroughly. Then again, of course it would; it’s created from what people believe exists, and if the pieces of paper are added to the page, then there’s no doubt it would have been added in this monster’s reality.

“We need to move forward,” Tracy says. Sam frowns at her in search for an explanation. “He only starts showing himself after finding the first paper? We could wait here until he might eventually show, or we search for another paper, giving us a bigger chance of finding him.”

Sam rolls his eyes, and Tracy punches him. She hides the piece of paper in her pocket before walking again. Sam just follows her, making sure to look everywhere, especially behind them.

By the time they find the second paper, it suddenly feels as if the temperature has dropped a few degrees. This time the note only consisted a drawing of a skinny figure surrounded by trees, but nothing written on it. Sam can’t help but shudder, and he turns around again after hearing something weird.

“Oh, crap,” Tracy suddenly says, earning her Sam’s attention. He can see immediately what’s bothering her. The flashlight is flickering.

“He must be near,” Sam says, charging his shotgun and pointing it into the darkness surrounding them. Tracy shakes the flashlight a few times before the thing stops flickering at last. The light has slightly dimmed, but at least they’re not in complete darkness.

“Keep an eye out,” Tracy says, to which Sam nods. They don’t walk anymore, but both of them stand back against back, with their guns ready. 

The first appearance of the tulpa ends up with a wasted bullet since the damn thing disappears right before it hits him. Sam curses loudly and recharges when Tracy makes the second shot, missing it as well.

“Dammit!” she calls out behind Sam. He catches another glimpse of it, and shoots again. Only this time, the tulpa appears right before him and slams him against a tree. His breath catches in his throat as he connects with the bark, and he groans in pain when he drops down on the ground.

Tracy lets out a yell a little further away, causing Sam to get back to his senses again. He ignores the headache he suddenly feels, finding Tracy in the tulpa’s grasp. The figure has strange black appendages appearing from his back – which he right away identifies as tentacles (eew, by the way) – and the monster’s holding her in the air, marching towards a tree with what seems like a very pointy branch about to push into her back.

Sam tries to collect all of his force to grab his shotgun again. He can’t find himself to stand up, so he has to crawl. Tracy makes struggling sounds, and Sam knows when she’s reached the branch. Especially from her screams getting louder.

Right at that moment, Sam grabs a hold of his shotgun, recharging it before pointing it to the tulpa’s head.

“Hey ugly!” Sam calls out, causing the monster to turn around. Right at that moment, he shoots, sending a bullet right in the monster’s forehead. The white figure lets go of Tracy, and the hunter collapses on the ground with a painful grunt. From the way she’s shifting, he knows she’s hurt.

Next to her, the tulpa is unmoving, flashing a little bit as if he’s slowly disappearing from reality. Sam keeps his eyes close on him just to make sure that he won’t suddenly make a run for it.

Then it looks as if he’s just fading away. The faceless monsters lets out a high shriek despite it not having a mouth, and then it’s gone, leaving a pile of dark clothes in its wake. After that, it’s awfully silent apart from Tracy’s painful grunts. Sam stands up with shaky legs, and moves to her.

“Are you okay?” he asks, trying to turn her on her back. That only causes her to shout it out even louder, so he lets go of her quickly. With one swift look around, he picks up the flashlight again, using it to help him find Tracy’s weapon. He locks both shotguns into safety, and then moves back towards Tracy.

“I’m going to carry you out of here,” he warns her before moving his arms underneath her legs and on her upper back. Tracy cries it out again, but he can’t just leave her here. With the flashlight stuck between his teeth, he puts the two shotguns in Tracy’s arms. The hunter holds on to them, and then presses her face against his chest, obviously fighting hard to hold back the tears of pain. Sam admires her strength.

It takes him a while to get back to the car, but eventually he finds his way out of the forest – mostly by accident, because he thought he still had fifteen more minutes of walking ahead of him.

He makes sure Tracy is safe inside the car, and then moves to the driver’s side before he remembers something.

The missing children. They could still be here somewhere. He turns his head back towards the forest, really not wanting to go back in there again, but obviously he has no choice. It’s a hard decision, because Tracy needs to be looked after. She was bleeding from her back, leaving blood all over Sam’s clothes, so it could be critical if not looked after immediately.

“Go, find them,” Tracy says, obviously knowing what exactly is bothering Sam. Still, the hunter hesitates, eyeing Tracy for a long moment before reaching for the trunk where he knows she’s put a blanket. The girl is shuddering from the cold and the pain, so he has to make sure she at least won’t die of hypothermia.

Then afterwards he grabs his shotgun again, picks up the two flashlights and a compass just to be sure, and then he moves forward, back into the forest.

He has absolutely no idea where to go, but at least now he’s got something to lead him the way back out. He keeps on heading east, but after reaching the border of the forest, he goes a different direction.

It all happens so fast because he’s practically running all the way, and just when he’s at the point of giving up, he sees it. A small house, barely still standing. It has been the only sign of life in this whole damn forest since re-entering. Quickly, he runs inside, keeping his gun ready in case the tulpa didn’t die, and checking every room he passes.

After clearing the whole ground floor, he contemplates between going upstairs or downstairs. It would make more sense if the kids would be locked down, though, so he chooses the latter. Glad to have a flashlight, he goes down the stairs, trying not to make any sudden noises. The air is thick and humid here, which certainly isn’t healthy to stay in for a long time.

“Hello?” he calls out in a whisper, heart beating in relief when a sudden shout comes back. Sam goes to the source of the noise, finding a locked door at the end of the hallway. He knocks it, receiving a knock in return.

“Get back! I’m breaking the door,” Sam shouts out, hoping so hard that the kids listened to him. Then he throws himself on the door, dropping all his weight on the rotten wood. It doesn’t open, but it does budge a little, which is enough for Sam. He kicks it again, and again, and then, eventually, the door falls out of its frame, and it reveals about eight children close to the wall on the other side of the room. There’s variety on girls and boys, but Sam isn’t surprised when he doesn’t catch a sign of that one missing adult as well.

“Come on, I’ll get you out of here,” Sam tells them, already wondering how the hell he’s going to get them all inside the car. The oldest kid grabs a hold of the smallest kid his hand, and then indicates the others to move forward, which they do. Sam, still ready with his shotgun, leads the way.

They don’t run across anything during their trek back to the car which is a relief. A few of the kids start crying, but the others comfort them while Sam moves to the passenger seat to check on Tracy.

“Nice job, Winchester,” Tracy mutters lightly to him without opening her eyes. She sounds exhausted, and after checking her pulse, Sam figures she will be alright. He just needs to clean her wounds when they get back to the motel, and after that she’ll be fine.

“Are you ready to go back home, kids?” Sam asks then, and all of them nod excitedly. Now, let the puzzling of getting them into a car begin.

 

* * *

 

 

_Alpena, Michigan, Days Inn Alpena  
The next morning_

“So what’s the verdict?”

The question is asked bitterly, though Sam couldn’t really blame her for it. She’s sitting on the bed again, her back facing the hunter as he tries to check on her wound again. They’ve been trying to clean it for hours after arriving back to their motel room and eventually managed to fall asleep despite the sudden adrenaline inside their bodies.

Still, Sam was exhausted. His limbs still hurt from being shaken around all the time, and he thinks he might have a minor concussion. Still, he tries to focus real hard on Tracy’s wound underneath the bandage, just to make sure that no dirt has still found its way inside her body.

“Looking good for now,” Sam says before putting the bandage back. Tracy sighs in relief after that revelation. She quickly puts her shirt back on and lies down on her bed, eyeing Sam closely for a moment.

“You know, you’re not what I expected you to be,” she suddenly reveals to him. Sam can’t help but raise his eyebrows at her, but he doesn’t ask further, knowing very well that she’ll continue anyway. And she does.

“I thought you would have been some kind of psychotic creep or something, after all the things I’ve heard about you. But you’re just a regular hunter. A _tall_ regular hunter, to make it even worse.”

“So what’d you hear about me, then?” Sam asks despite not wanting to know the answer. Tracy hesitates for a moment then, suddenly reaching out for Sam’s face to push away a lock of hair, to Sam’s biggest surprise.

“It doesn’t really matter,” she then says. “I just blamed you for some things that happened to me in my past, but now that I know you a little bit more, I think I understand that making mistakes is human.”

That’s the understatement of the year, but in Castiel’s case Angels can make mistakes, too. Especially Castiel.

“What mistake are you talking about?” Sam asks before dropping down next to Tracy. He clasps his hands together while he thinks. He’s done a lot of things that could be considered mistakes, but he’s never really been allowing himself to think about those. It’s really a thing of embarrassment, really.

“The Apocalypse,” Tracy says after a moment. Her eyes seem hollow and lifeless for a while, as if she’s remembering something dark that had happened to her all those years ago. “Demon’s celebrated and mentioned your name a few times. That, of course, after killing my parents without good reason other than it being fun in their opinion.”

“How’d you get out alive?” Sam asks without looking at her. He feels ashamed about it but there’s nothing really he can do right now. He can’t bring her parents back – though the Angels could, but there’s no way they’d want to help him after screwing them over so many times.

“Another hunter exorcised them. After that I got into the business, I guess.” Tracy looks down at her hands, fumbling nervously with them. “Anyway, I always blamed you for their deaths.”

“Then what made you change your mind?”

Now Tracy stares up at him with big eyes.

“Your determination to help those kids in the woods.” Her stare on him lingers a while, but they don’t break eye contact. “A man trying so hard to save other people would probably not have started the Apocalypse on purpose, right?”

Sam smirks then, turning his head to the side. He wants to roll his eyes, to prove her wrong, but in the end, the Apocalypse _wasn’t_ started on purpose.

“Yeah no, got manipulated by Angels and Demons. I was in a dark place back then,” Sam explains, not really wanting to go into detail about it. “Long story short; I thought I did the right thing, but it ended up biting me in the ass, as usual. We, uh, we stopped Lucifer, though.”

Tracy nods lightly. Somehow, her hand finds Sam’s, and she squeezes his fingers. He looks back up at her again, can’t help but wondering what she’s actually trying to do.

It’s what lonesome hunters do most of the times; they meet up to do a job, they finish it, they sleep together depending on sexual preferences, and afterwards they don’t really talk about it anymore. Of course it has been more Dean’s style to be that kind of guy, but could anybody really blame Sam for trying to find company after all that Jess-business.

He should have protested when Tracy started kissing him, should have stopped her, stopped himself. She’s 23 years old for crying out loud, nine years younger than he is!

But as she’s busy undressing him, he figures that nine years of age-difference isn’t that much, right? And she seems to be willing enough to do this, too. So, maybe he shouldn’t stop her?

Their kisses deepen after each minute or so, and after having his shirt taken off of him, he finds himself lying on his back in her bed. His hands travel over her face, trying to push away the hair from her face. The expression she has isn’t one of adoration like Jess had, or Madison. Or even Amelia. But Tracy looks at him as if she understands him, one of respect.

When his left hand passes over her back, his fingers scrapes over the bandage she’s wearing, making him pull back from the kiss.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asks her worriedly. Tracy throws a small look over her shoulder, looking pensive for a moment. Then, a small smile appears on her face, and she nods, leaning forward to kiss him again, and again.

“Don’t worry about it,” she mumbles against his lips. “As long as you have any protection with you, I’m absolutely fine.” She then smiles, causing Sam to do the same.

 

* * *

 

 

_A few hours later_

Sam slams the trunk close after loading in all their luggage. It’s a hot day out, making him already sweat in the t-shirt he’s wearing. Behind him, Tracy is busy locking the door again. She seems to be having it warm just like Sam does, but despite that she seems to glow from the remainder of their bliss together. When she looks up at him, he finds her smiling at her. He throws a smile back, nodding towards to car to indicate that they’re ready to move.

Tracy holds the keys of both rooms in the air, telling him that she still needs to check out. Sam reaches behind him in his back pocket, taking out his wallet in search for his fake credit card.

“Here,” he tells her. Tracy lifts up an eyebrow, but her face looks smug. She takes the credit card from him, and returns to the reception, leaving Sam alone at the car.

His smile doesn’t leave him while he watches her walking away. She looks so small, though everybody looks small next to him of course. She’s taller than Ruby’s last body had been, but still smaller than Jess.

Damn it, no, he shouldn’t be thinking about Jess right now. His day has started good, he finished a case, saved a bunch of kids and prevented other people from dying. He shouldn’t dwell on the past anymore.

Luckily, he gets pulled out of his thoughts by his cellphone, blasting an annoying sound from inside his pocket. As fast as he can, Sam pulls the device out, finding that the incoming call comes from Kevin. Without hesitation, he picks up the phone.

“Kevin?” he asks worriedly.

“ _Hey Sam, where are you right now? Are you still busy with a case?”_ he hears on the other side of the line. Is it him, or does Kevin sound drunk? Or maybe super-tired?

“Just finished up, actually,” Sam says, blushing upon the realization that they finished off yesterday already, and only bothered to leave at noon. Ah, well, at least they talked all their issues out and had fun. “Did you drink Dean’s beer again? You know he’ll be pissed when he finds out.”

“ _Dude, we don’t_ have _alcohol in the bunker, remember? You removed everything to keep Crowley from drinking himself in a coma after becoming human.”_

Sam raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Dude, that’s more than a year ago. There’s been beer in the fridge for a while now. We just bought the crap Crowley doesn’t like.”

The silence on the other line is enough answer for Sam, and he feels his lips curl up in a smile. In the corner of his eye he can see Tracy reappearing with what seems to be a bottle or something. She swings her hips excitedly as she moves forward, as if she’s dancing on some imaginary music.

“Listen, Kev, is there a reason you called? We were going to leave to the airport right now.”

_“Yeah, yeah. It’s the dreams, they seem to be getting worse,”_ Kevin explains, yawning loudly. In the background Sam can hear a refrigerator closing, which could only mean the Prophet has found Dean’s secret stack of beer. _“It was the weirdest thing; in my dream I just woke up in the main room with a piece of paper in front of me. When I tried to read it, I found I couldn’t. Language unknown.”_

“Huh, so you think you wrote it?” Sam asks. In the meantime, Tracy has rejoined him, waiting outside the car before getting inside – it’s even hotter there than out. She has her head raised to the sky while she lets the sun shine bright over her face.

“ _Probably, but then something even stranger happens; a random girl appears in the room,”_ Kevin whispers in panic. “ _An unfamiliar, weird – yet beautiful – girl stands behind me, asking about Dean and Cas, about when they’ll return and all that. And after I told her I didn’t know, she just took the paper with her, saying ‘I must take the prophecy with me now, but I still need to find those two lovebirds soon’ or something like that – her words, not mine.”_

“And after that she vanished?” Sam guesses. He hears Kevin grunt the affirmative, which probably doesn’t mean anything good. Sam nods, despite the Prophet not being able to see it. His eyes catch Tracy’s for a moment, but when he looks over her he could practically drop the phone from his hand.

He blinks one time, suddenly finding nothing where before he could have sworn to have seen a dark figure. His mind completely seems to ignore Tracy asking him questions in surprise, turning her back in search for what Sam is looking at.

He barely catches Kevin’s voice on the other side of the line, but it’s only after a moment that his realization returns, hearing only the end of Kevin’s story.

“Listen Kev, I need to hang up. The case might not be over yet,” he says, earning him Tracy’s attention. She drops her mouth open, wanting to go into protest. Sam holds his finger to his lips in gesture for her to be quiet. He then quickly hangs up the phone, ending the call without giving Kevin as much as a goodbye.

“What makes you say the hunt isn’t over?” Tracy asks when Sam unlocks the car to get inside the trunk and check if the weapons are still there. The moment Sam looks up again, the figure’s back, hiding in the shadow underneath a tree further away.

“Because apparently _Slenderman_ has chosen me to haunt this time,” he says calmly, though his heart is beating like crazy in his chest. Of course, when Tracy turns around to see what he’s looking at, the shadow’s gone again.

“Okay,” Tracy says hesitantly, pushing herself away from the car. “But you get to reserve a room.” She holds her finger pointed at him, causing Sam to smirk a little bit. This here reminds him a little bit of Dean, which is kind of funny. And suddenly kind of gross, because the girl he just slept with suddenly reminds him of his brother and that’s disgusting. Quickly, he tries to distract his mind, thinking about _any_ national anthem he can think of and singing it loudly in his head.

After twenty minutes they’re finally back inside, sitting behind their laptop. While Tracy does some further research on Slenderman, Sam goes and search for other cases like this that might have happened. It’s a wide search, seeing as they have to consider the whole world this time. It even takes Sam a few hours, a few phone calls, and multiple cups of coffee to get through this.

“Okay, so what I’ve got on Slenderman is that he’s tall, faceless, has tentacles – which we’ve all seen yesterday. But he also works by impaling his victims into trees and then taking out their organs, bagging them, and putting them back inside.”

Sam makes a face at Tracy’s revelation, because that’s just disgusting.

“At least now we know why he wanted to pin you against that branch,” he tells her. Tracy nods uncomfortably before continuing.

“It is said here that he favors children for unknown reasons, luring them to his lair before killing them instantly.”

“So it wasn’t a tulpa? Otherwise the children would have been dead instead of locked away,” Sam concludes. Tracy holds up her hands in an unknowing gesture.

“When it comes to the adults, he chooses to stalk them to insanity, making people believe he’s there while others can’t see him. This can take place over a timespan of days to even years. That must be what he’s doing with you, then?”

Sam can’t help but feel sorry for its previous victims, having been driven nuts from knowing something’s chasing you, but nobody believing you. It’s only normal it would have made people insane, which he can assure everybody won’t happen to him. He’s been stalked by Lucifer, he can handle a ridiculous monster with tentacles.

“Any type of people he follows?” Sam then asks. Tracy nods.

“He chooses adults that have had a tragic past, which fits with Mr. Hemsman. His wife told us his parents died in a car crash. They didn’t survive the blast, though all he got from it was a broken leg. Sounds tragic enough for me.”

Sam nods then, finally pointing at the laptop before him. He ignores the dark shadow he sees outside the window.

“In total there have been about twenty more cases slightly related to this one in America alone,” he reveals. “They don’t match completely, but they all share a common thing.”

“Which is?” Tracy asks while she pours herself another glass of water.

“People going missing; a few adults too.”

“Oh come on, Sam. That’s barely anything,” Tracy tells him. She comes to stand behind him to look at his screen. Sam just lets her, rubbing his eyes in frustration.

“It is when all of these cases were vengeful spirits originating from a highly warded mental hospital,” Sam reveals. That was why he had to make all these phone calls. It wasn’t easy finding any hunter that had worked one of those cases, but eventually he did stumble across somebody that was able to help him.

“You think Slenderman is the vengeful spirit of a madman?” Tracy asks mockingly. Sam rolls his eyes at her, but eventually nods.

“In all these cases, the vengeful spirits turned out that way after dying during an experiment done on them. These experiments were often secret, nobody knew about them. They tortured the patient, and after they had enough, in some cases, they took their organs to sell them illegally throughout the world. That’s why there were multiple hauntings like these, coming from the same spirit.”

Tracy crosses her arms, but at least seems to believe him now, which is a victory for Sam.

“So what, we go find any mental hospitals in the neighborhood and try to dig out where our potential vengeful spirit is buried?” she asks. Sam shakes his head, though. That would have been very easy, but sadly, it’s not something often given to them.

“The only mental hospital around burned about fifty years ago. If the guy would have been buried there, nothing would have remained,” Sam says. Damn, it would have been handy if Cas were here. He could sniff out the spirit and smite him instantly. Instead, they have to do this the hard way. Again.

“Isn’t there still anybody alive that worked there?” Tracy asks. To this, Sam finally nods, pulling up the page with the article with the person in question.

“Uriah Torres, was an intern back when the hospital was still open. Guy’s currently residing in a nursing home. But, getting anything out of him will be difficult.”

“Why?”

Sam sighs. “Because he’s got Alzheimer’s disease.”

 

* * *

 

 

Mr. Torres resides in room 897, on the top floor, according to girl at the reception. He’s supposedly a very open person, conversing with everybody on his floor. Of course, that’s what the nurse tells them while they wait for the elevator to go up.

Sam busies himself with straightening his tie while Tracy converses a little bit with the nurse. The woman seems a little bit too cheerful in his opinion, laughing about the smallest things and acting as if everything is rainbows and flowers.

The elevator arrives none too early. The moment the door pings open, Nurse Tammy – that’s her name – leads them through the hallway in search for room 897. It feels like a maze in here. How do these patients even orient themselves around this place? They’re all people with demention or Alzheimer’s, so it mustn’t be easy for them to remember their way around.

“Here we are, Uriah Torres,” Nurse Tammy says with a smile that is way too bright. Though Tracy just walks past her, Sam still finds the politeness to smile back to her. With a short nod, Tammy waves again, finally making her exit and trek back to the ground floor.

Uriah Torres is sitting in a chair in front of the TV when Sam finally enters the room. Tracy is already seated next to him with a hand resting on his, and it appears that he’s missed the short introduction.

“Yes, Uriah, it’s Beth,” is the first thing Sam hears Tracy say to the old man. She throws Sam an insisting stare, and Sam nods, deciding to go along with whatever she tells him. “How have you been?”

“Oh, my dearest Beth, I’ve been fine,” Uriah says. He reaches up to take off his glasses. “I’ve had a few days off, and I’m ready to go to work again tomorrow.”

“Work?” Tracy asks, feigning innocence. Uriah nods hard, probably ignoring Sam sitting in the room with them.

“I still have my internship to finish, of course. Otherwise Dr. Pellman will be angry for slacking off. I don’t want that.” Uriah takes a sip from his cup of tea, hands shaking slightly. Sam understands that he’s currently thinking he’s still working in the institute, reliving that time again, which could actually come in handy.

“Ask him about Dr. Pellman?” Sam whispers to Tracy. She nods, squeezing Uriah’s hand slightly.

“You never really told me much about Dr. Pellman,” she says with a soft voice. “Is he a nice doctor?” Uriah nods excitedly with a wide smile.

“Oh yes, he’s very friendly!” he says in full enthusiasm. “At least, he is to us. But he has his secrets, and I’m the only one to know of them.” He turns his head towards Tracy and holds on tightly to Tracy’s hand. Quietly, he gestures for her to lean forward which she does, trying to listen to whatever he wants to say.

Sam unknowingly leans forward as well, almost causing him to lose his balance and fall forward. With a sharp motion, he grips the door handle tight to stop himself from losing his ground. Tracy throws him an annoyed look, Sam shrugs back apologetically. Uriah didn’t even seem to notice someone else was in the room.

“He’s doing further experiments on the patients, trying to make them better,” Uriah whispers to Tracy, but loud enough for Sam to hear. So it is as they suspected; crazy doctor performing illegal tests on mental patients somewhere in the institute’s basement.

“What kind of stuff is he doing?” Tracy asks gently without removing her hand from Uriah’s.

“Lots of things, but he assured me that he’s only doing it to make them better. So far, only one of his patients died so it couldn’t be that bad, right? If it’s a way of curing them?”

It twists something inside Sam to see how badly this man wants to believe his boss did the right thing back in the day. It’s obvious that he’s very loyal and passionate about his old job, clearly wanting nothing else other than the patients healthy again.

“That one patient that died, what was his name?”

Uriah seems to hesitate then, pulling his hand away from Tracy’s to nervously start rubbing on his skin. He lowers his head, appearing to be ashamed about it or something. Tracy leans back a little, and Sam takes a short step forward before Tracy stops him by holding out her hand.

“His name was Isaac Slender,” Uriah almost whispers. “He was my favorite patient. I never saw what happened to him. Dr. Pellman one day just came to me, telling me he was dead.”

“Can you tell me about Isaac?” Tracy asks carefully. Sam nods at her to tell her that she’s doing good asking about the man further. Uriah looks up at her with a sad face.

“Nobody really understood him; he was really tall and pale. Others were afraid of him. The only people friendly enough to him were children.”

When their eyes meet, Sam motions for Tracy to follow him back out. They have enough information to find Isaac Slender’s body and burn it before it comes after him. He doesn’t stay to hear Tracy saying goodbye to Uriah Torres, instead choosing to stand in the hallway while he waits for her. It doesn’t take long for her to join him, and they get moving right away.

“I guess that’s how Slenderman’s story might be originating?” Tracy asks after a few moments of silence in the elevator. Sam just shrugs lightly. It is possible that the legend originated from Isaac Slender’s appearance, though that doesn’t explain him being faceless or anything.

“We just need to find out where he’s buried, burn his bones before he gets to anybody else, and then we’re back on our way,” Sam says, more as a reassurance to himself rather than for Tracy. She just nods lightly without speaking up about it.

It takes them a small hour of research to find out that Dr. Pellman got arrested after an intern – probably Torres – revealed his extracurricular activities. All the victims dying under Dr. Pellman’s hands were offered a proper burial in the closest cemetery from the institute, which is still standing despite the fire. It’s also right next to the forest all those people have been missing in to, which is probably why he’s residing there.

The two hunters make short work of preparing their shotguns and their inventory of salt. In the background outside of the motel, Sam still sees Isaac Slender’s creepy spirit haunting him. It’s a rare thing to happen, but that doesn’t mean that it never does.

There’s no discussion needed when they’re back on their way to the forest. It’s already nightfall, meaning that they aren’t in plain sight when they’re going to dig up the grave.

“So, I was wondering for a while now, but aren’t you usually hunting with your brother?” Tracy asks after an extended period of silence in the car on the way to the forest. For a moment, Sam is surprised that she never really asked that before.

“No, he’s on his honeymoon,” Sam answers shortly. Does Tracy even know about Angels? Should he tell her, or is it better not to drop that kind of bomb on her?

“He got married? That’s weird, for a hunter,” she says in confusion. Sam only shrugs again. After all, he got married too – though it doesn’t really count because he was drugged by a love-potion by then. Also, great, why had be brought that memory back up?

“Yeah, well, they’re good together. It’s only for the best he’s doing something that makes him happy. Cas makes him happy.”

Tracy nods slowly while not taking her eyes off of him, looking at him quizzically. Dean doesn’t really know what else he can say about it. His brother is in love – though he’s obviously not yet to the point of admitting that openly – and married, currently getting more tan underneath the sun with said love of his life. It’s Dean’s life, Sam doesn’t want to spread the word about it too much.

“And you? Found somebody that makes you happy?” Tracy says, suddenly sounding like the typical teenage girl. She leans her head on her hand and smirks up at him.

“You really think this morning would have happened if I already had somebody waiting for me at home?” Sam retorts. The smile on Tracy’s face falls a little bit, but not much.

“Yeah, well, it could be unrequited love? This morning might as well have been an attempt of you to forget about someone?”

Sam stays silent because she has no idea how right she is. He did sleep with her to forget about Jess, and now that she pronounced it like this he can’t help but feel guilty about it. Tracy seems to notice it, though, and slaps him playfully on the arm.

“Hey hey hey, none of that, you hear me? We both used each other this morning for our own reasons. No need of you getting all conscious about it!”

Sam throws her a thankful look then, almost wanting to ask what her reason had been. He decides not to, because he just got this girl to kind of like him; he’s not going to ruin that with a stupid question that doesn’t need an answer.

He realizes he’s arrived when he sees the plate towards the cemetery appear. He pulls the car aside and parks it, allowing them to walk out of the vehicle and grab their weapons.

“You see him anywhere?” Tracy asks. Sam does a quick inspection of the space around him, but finds that the spirit isn’t anywhere around. He isn’t sure if that’s anything good.

“No,” he informs her before checking his ammunition again. After that, they’re back on the move. It’s only a five-minute walk to the cemetery, but Sam wants this case solved as quickly as possible. Tracy points the flashlight ahead of them, letting the shovel drag on the ground. Sam wants to say something about it, but he decides not to, instead choosing to stay quiet. Tracy is obviously a pretty independent girl, so pointing her on that could cause her to lash out on him, which, no way, not a good idea.

Finding the grave is easy enough, but digging up the coffin takes a lot more effort, especially with the constant fear that Isaac Slender might be lurking over their shoulders all the time. More often than not Sam looks around to check if the spirit has not yet shown up, which luckily he hasn’t.

“Isn’t it a little weird that he hasn’t tried to stop us, yet?” Tracy asks in surprise. Sam raises an eyebrow but digs a little deeper in the earth. He just wants to burn the body and get going.

As if Tracy’s words are a trigger, Sam gets pushed out of the hole and thrown against a tree again by a brute force. It all happens so fast, and by the time he has fully realized it, he’s once again lifted up in the air and pushed against a sharp branch.

Sam cries it out when it pokes him hard in the back, not yet breaking through his skin. He tries to grab for the spirit’s hands, to get it to let him go. Its hold is too strong, though, and Sam can feel how he’s slowly getting low on breath.

“Gah,” Sam calls out, eyes opening to search for Tracy. Maybe if she’s still digging while he’s distracted, she can get the job done and it’ll all be over. It just concerns him when he can’t see her dark hair appear over the edge over the hole.

No, she’s lying on the ground, against a tree, a little further away.

“My my, you really have gotten yourself in trouble this time, haven’t you?” another voice suddenly calls out from next to him. Sam can’t turn his head to see who it is, but quickly enough the person – a young woman – walks in his sight, standing behind the spirit with her arms crossed and looking bored out of her mind.

“H-help!” Sam breathes out without much force. The girl stares him down for a few seconds before rolling her eyes.

“You’re just no fun,” she says in a long sigh. Then she snaps her fingers together, and the spirit seems to dissolve into thin air, as if he had never been there. Sam falls down on the floor with a loud grunt, reaching for his neck. He takes long and deep breaths to get some new air into his lungs. When he looks up, he sees the woman walk over towards Tracy.

“Just because I like this one, I’ll heal her wounds and get her back in the motel room. You, don’t move!” she orders him, pointing at Sam with a finger. Then she leans forward and touches Tracy on her shoulder, and they disappear as well.

“What the hell?” he mumbles out with a hoarse voice, throat hurting like a bitch. He could really use some water. At least he’s aware enough to know that he needs to get out of here. But first he needs to burn the bones before Isaac Slender returns again to permanently impale him with the branches of the trees. With a slight limp he moves towards the grave, finding that Tracy had at least reached the coffin before getting knocked unconscious.

His eyes open in surprise when he finds that the coffin is empty. There’s nothing there, not bones, not even clothes of anybody that could have possibly been lying there. Just… empty.

“What the-?” he repeats again as he stares down at the white cushions inside the coffin.

“I must say, I had forgotten how fun it was to mess with you,” the mysterious woman from earlier suddenly says again, apparently having appeared behind him again. She has her hands resting in the pockets of her pants, and she’s walking forward towards him. “Oh my, Sammy, you don’t look that good.”

“What are you talking about?” Sam breathes out as he sits himself down on the edge of the hole. He winces from the pain in his back, but so far it’s bearable. “Who are you?”

The girl holds her hand in the air again and shakes her head.

“You don’t get to ask the questions here, Sam. I’m only here because I’m tired of looking. Where’s your brother and his Angel?”

Sam’s heart stops for a minute, but he quickly composes himself again, slightly shaking his head in confusion.

“I have no idea where they are, they’re moving around from country to country,” Sam says truthfully. “You’re the girl that Kevin spoke of?”

The girl smirks slightly and foots away a branch.

“He spoke of me? Oh, what did he tell you, don’t leave out any details!” she returns in a fake enthusiasm, trying to appear… well… her age. She can’t be much more than seventeen, right? Maybe eighteen at most. “Listen, _Sam_ , this is starting to take way too long. Making you believe the tulpa was an actual spirit was fun while it lasted, but now the clock’s actually ticking.”

“So the headshot actually worked? The whole thing after that was just you?” Sam feels anger boiling up inside of him, and he grits his teeth to keep himself from shouting it out to her. He’s seen what she can do, there’s no way he’s going to cross her in any way.

“Yeah, I love to mess with people’s minds,” she mutters. Then she tilts her head a little bit to the side and squints her eyes as she inspects him. “There’s a connection on you. I didn’t see it before, but it’s there.”

“What do you mean?”

And then she’s suddenly standing in front of him, holding tightly to his arm. Panic starts to raise in Sam’s mind, and he tries to break free from her grasp, only finding her to be too strong. No matter how hard he pulls, he just can’t escape her grip.

“What are you doing?” he asks, hating how his voice shivers from the light fear. The girl throws him a strange look that looks like it’s mixed between apologetic and smug.

“Sorry I have to do this, but it seems like right now it’s the only way to get them here,” the girl says, and then she pulls on his arm so hard that Sam can literally _hear_ the muscle tear inside his arm. He can’t help but shout it out in pain.

When the girl lets go of him, he drops down on his knees and tries to hold his arm close to his body. For a moment, all he can feel or understand is the pain that is going through him. It’s like his arm has literally been pulled loose from his body, and it’s just still hanging on by a small piece of skin. He only notices he’s actually crying when he tastes the tears rolling over his lips.

“Sam!” someone calls out in the background. Sam knows that voice; that’s his brother! What is Dean doing there? Is he hallucinating? With trouble, Sam opens his eyes again everything seems blurry for a while. All he sees is a smudge of darkened beige, only lightened by the flashlight that coincidentally is still lying next to him.

“Ah, there you are,” the girl calls out after probably finding Dean too. Sam wants to look up, to see why she’s going through so much trouble to find him, but his attention is suddenly pulled elsewhere when a hand reaches out for his face.

“Cas, no get to Dean,” Sam stutters to him right at the moment he feels two fingers touch his forehead. Sam quickly closes his eyes, expecting the pain to disappear soon enough. He waits for a few seconds, but after a while he can’t help but cast a small glance towards the Angel in front of him. He looks deeply confused and kind of insulted by his own hands.

“What do you want?” Dean calls out in the background, causing both Sam and Castiel to turn towards the two. Sam’s vision is still blurry, but he can make out his brother’s figure getting approached by the girl. He’s holding what could probably be a gun and points it at her, shooting her right in the chest. It doesn’t seem to stop her in the slightest.

“It’s time for the Prophecy to come to pass,” the girl just says mysteriously. Cas gets up hastily and makes a run for the girl, but the moment he reaches him, both she and Dean are just… gone. Disappeared into thin air, all with just a single snap of her fingers.

“C-Cas, what happened?” Sam asks worriedly, closing his eyes again when a new wave of pain passes over him. He leans forward and rests his head against the ground while he groans in pain. Castiel wasn’t able to heal him, which could only mean something is seriously wrong.

“Deans- Dean’s gone,” Castiel breathes out. And then, the Angel kneels down on the floor and stares just right ahead of him. “Dean’s gone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hated it? Loved it? Suggestions or tips? Please, do share what you thought of it. I'm still learning and your comments are pretty much the power source to my writing inspiration.
> 
> (Also, I'm really surprised because the word-document of this story has now reached 210 pages, which is literally the most I've ever writting on a story in my whole life. Let's celebrate, or something like that?)


	12. That bitch told us to turn it off! How could you just let her do that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I made you guys wait three weeks for the previous update, here's another new chapter in the same week. I hope you'll like it.  
> And yeah, we are now kind of following the season 10 storyline as much as it fits with the story. There'll be no Cole, though, because I have no idea how to write him into the story. Sorry for the Cole-fans.

 

_Lebanon Kansas  
July 27 th_

Lauren Porter’s life has always been good. She’s had loving parents who gave her the opportunity for a decent education, she is very charismatic, causing people to like her a lot, and, though she works hard for it, she always gets what she wants.

Okay, no, maybe that’s not really good put together. For somebody who barely knows her, this is how Lauren explains her childhood when they ask. She doesn’t tell any details, just the parents, the education, and the friends.

In reality, it hasn’t always been _that_ easy. While she got a good education, like she keeps on telling everybody, a person would just take one look at her and make up their minds about her, no matter what diploma she might have gotten or how successful she might be in her job. People see her on the street and talk to her in slow English out of fear that she might be a tourist straight from Spain that doesn’t understand any English. In the end, though, it’s still kind of funny how their faces look when she answers them without any trouble in that eccentric British accent she’s gained from growing up in England.

Other people don’t look at her ethnicity, but rather at her body itself. She knows she’s got the right curves in the right places, and she knows some of the men have quite the enjoyment of staring at said curves, and sometimes they even dare touching her without her consent. In those cases she never hesitates to punch those guys right in the face. Who would expect from a lonesome thirty-year-old woman to know how to defend herself, right?

Lauren tries everything to keep her body fit – not because she has the absolute goal of becoming a skinny underwear-model, but because she knows she gains weight even faster than other people do. Something about her metabolism, her doctor once said when she asked about it. Anyway, because of that, she has taken it upon herself to jog at least once every two days.

Now, it’s very clear that jogging is a ridiculously boring sport; she actually hates it a lot, but it’s not like there’s much else to do in this town. So, for now it’s jogging. She repeatedly takes the usual route, always finishing up by passing through the park on her way back home. It has sort of become a tradition for her to count the old people sitting on benches as she passes by, and she’s not really one on breaking a tradition she’s made up herself.

This particular morning Lauren has done nothing else but curse the whole way here. It’s hot, it’s crowded with school kids doing some sort of assignment for whatever class they’re taking, and she has actually managed to trip over her own feet, hurting her knees and the palms of her hands. Just to say it short, this whole day has been nothing but a disaster so far, and it has barely even started yet.

“C’mon Lau, just because one guy stands you up doesn’t mean that your whole life is crashing down,” she mutters to herself while she pulls herself from the ground and tries to check how bad her knees are doing

Just like she suspected they’re scraped and bloody, filled with dirt and dust, and they sting to add it to the pile of crap she’s already feeling. “So what if he’s the first guy to ever have stood you up since high school, it’s no big deal. It doesn’t make you any less of a beautiful woman.”

Yeah, that is one other trait of Lauren; she’s always doing the best she can to make her love herself. She knows how other women are never happy with how they look no matter how fit they are, and once upon a time she had been one of those women. It has taken a few years of talking to a psychologist to accept that she looks the way she looks. It also helped her with her commitment issues… Which, okay, might not have gone away completely since she’s reached thirty last month and she’s still single.

“Are you okay?” a hoarse voice asks from behind her, pulling Lauren away from her train of thoughts. She always had a mind that wanders off too easily, which was never handy on the job.

When Lauren finds the person who spoke out to her, she’s surprised at what she finds; There’s a woman, about her age, with short light brown hair. The way the sun is shining over her, it seems like her hair has a soft golden glow on it.

The woman is sitting on a bench, but it’s not really that that makes Lauren raise her eyebrows. It’s more the clothing she’s wearing.

“Honey, you look like you stole some clothes from what I assume is your ex-boyfriend, am I right?” she asks the woman without answering her question. Ignoring the sting in her knees, she walks up to her, finding the woman looking at her in a strange scared expression. Her green eyes are open wide, her mouth fallen open, and she seems to be unable to focus on one point for an extended period of time.

“I- I don’t-…” she starts, but she seems to stop herself. A frown appears on her face, and then she squeezes her eyes shut as she reaches for her head, acting as if she’s in sudden pain.

“Hey, hey, are you alright?” Lauren moves forward again and rests a hand on her shoulder. The woman nods but doesn’t look up. The fact that she lets out a loud painful grunt is enough for her to know that this woman needs to be checked out.

“Listen, I know this doctor not far away from here. Let’s just go and visit him, get you all looked after, and then we’ll see what we do afterwards, okay?” She doesn’t wait for an answer before she starts pulling on the woman’s arms. The clothes she’s wearing are too ridiculously large, and who the hell even wears all those layers? There’s like a t-shirt, a flannel shirt above that, and then even a jacket as well? It’s freaking hot out here, why should she be wearing all that?

The woman holds out her hand for Lauren to take, and right then she notices the wedding band around her finger. She could have ran away from home to escape an abusive husband. Maybe she should call in the police as well?

“What’s your name?” Lauren asks while she leads the woman through the park. A few people are staring at them which she wouldn’t blame them for. How ridiculous must they look?

“I don’t know?” the woman asks more than she says, then lifting her hand to look at the wedding ring, staring at it as if she hasn’t noticed it before. “Holy crap am I married? My husband must be looking for me or something!”

She tries to walk away from Lauren, going God-knows-where, but Lauren grabs her by her arm, stopping her. She tries to use her intimidating stare on the woman to get her to stop trying to break free, and like usual, it’s working. The woman stops resisting her hold, and then follows her back towards the doctor’s place.

“Check the ring, maybe there’s a name written on it,” she suggests. The woman nods, removing her ring immediately to check on it. With squinted eyes she tries to read whatever’s written, which must be small.

“ _Dean and Castiel Winchester, June 7 th 2014,” _she reads out loud, looking forward thoughtfully while she takes over the names in her mind. “Dean…” she mutters afterwards. That’s good, right? It means that the name sounds familiar to her?

“Your name is Dean?” Lauren asks, though she would find it strange for a woman to be called that. It could be a nickname for Deanna or something? Lauren went to school with a Deanna once – what a total bitch that girl was. Man, is she glad the girl had to redo her year and hadn’t been in her class ever since.

Oh, she’s wandering off again. Right…

“I think it is, it feels… right,” the woman answers after a few minutes of thinking. Then she turns towards Lauren and looks at her with big eyes. “Thank you… for helping me.”

Lauren can’t help but smile a little at that. So she gets stood up by guys she just met at the store, at least she’s still able to help an amnesiac woman to safety. Who needs a man anyway? They’re no good for anything. She’s been fine without them so far.

She throws the woman – Dean – a small smile when she realizes that once again her thoughts are far away from the current situation. Luckily, the doctor’s office isn’t far away. She hopes she can get in without having made an appointment or anything.

She rings the bell that will notify the doctor, and sighs in relief when the door opens with a buzzing noise. Along with Dean she walks inside, nodding at the man currently sitting in the waiting room with a magazine in his hands.

“Hi Frank,” she greets the man, recognizing him as the husband of a woman she used to jog with a few weeks ago. They had this plan to go together every day, but sadly she gave up rather quickly after that, leaving Lauren to go alone again.

Frank lightly waves at her, but doesn’t speak, instead choosing to look back down to the magazine. He probably just doesn’t want to get mixed up with Dean’s sudden appearance. How does she even get herself in these situations all the time?

The door to the doctor’s office opens, and he sees Gretchen, Frank’s wife, walk out of the room while shaking the man’s hand. Frank puts the magazine down and walks up to her fast enough that Lauren is sure he just wants to get away from here as fast as he can. Men… typically.

Before Gretchen walks out she waves at Lauren with a smile. Lauren waves back, and then looks at Dean, finding the woman staring right ahead of her as if she’s suddenly in a different headspace. Lightly, she shakes her awake from her stupor and nods towards the door. Dean nods and stands up, holding tight to her extremely large pants since they keep falling off of her hips. Poor woman must have been scared off her wits before disappearing from where-ever she comes from.

Lauren knocks lightly on the door and Dr. Barton looks up from the documents she was filling in.

“Oh? I thought all my appointments were done for this hour?” she asks, turning towards the screen to check her agenda. Lauren all but pushes Dean forward towards the chair and hold her hands up.

“No, we don’t have an appointment. It was just a sudden _emergency_ , to call it.”

Dr. Barton inspects her hands from where she’s seated and lifts her eyebrows mockingly. “Now come on, Lauren, I know you hurt easily, but scraped hands and knees are not exactly doctor-worth injuries?” she asks with a smirk. Next to Lauren, Dean snorts lightly but quickly lowers her head again

“Ha-ha you’re hilarious,” Lauren says to the woman, not at all surprised at how easily it is to converse with her. Then she points towards Dean, who is seated in front of Dr. Barton’s desk. “We’re here for Dean, though. I found her in the park, she has no memories of where she comes from or anything else.”

Dr. Barton nods and stands up, motioning for Dean to do the same. The lost woman finally shrugs off at least two layers of her clothing and follows the doctor to the examination bed. Lauren decides it’s best to stay in the background rather than to meddle along with it.

“Okay now, Dean, please sit down and do exactly as I say,” Dr. Barton asks her while she puts on some latex gloves. Without any objection, Dean nods, sitting herself down on the bed. Lauren watches how Dean’s temperature gets taken, how Dr. Barton checks her breathing, her throat – since Dean still sounds kind of hoarse – and her eyes and ears. When they get to measuring her blood pressure, things end up getting interesting.

“Huh,” is what Dr. Barton says that wins Lauren’s attention again. She was about to put the band around Dean’s arm, but apparently something on her shoulder stopped her. Quietly, Lauren gets up and moves towards the two.

“What’s wrong?” she asks curiously. Dean looks at her in mild confusion, but it’s the doctor’s surprise that really gets to her.

“This scar on your shoulder is very special,” Dr. Barton tells Dean with a subtle amount of worry in her voice. “Who did this to you?” Dean frowns a little and looks down towards her left shoulder, staring a little bit too long at the strange hand-shaped scar planted on her shoulder. Lauren makes a horrified face, because that must have hurt a lot!

“I don’t know,” Dean says vaguely, gently touching the scar with her fingers. “I think I got it from my husband,” she then says as if she’s daydreaming. Lauren and Dr. Barton share a knowing look and nod towards each other. They’ve both come to the conclusion that Dean must have probably gotten out of a bad marriage filled with abuse. They should try and recover Dean’s memory so they could lock up the bastard and keep him from trying to hurt any other women.

“Listen, there isn’t much more that I can do right here. Other than the amnesia she’s completely stable and healthy. The best you can do is to get an MRI from the brain to find out if there has been any damage,” Dr. Barton says while she lets the stethoscope hang over her neck. Then she makes a move back to her desk to grab her papers. “I’ll put up the chart for her already. Just take her to the scan and let them see what they can do.” After a few moments of scribbling things down, Dr. Barton stacks her papers together and then hands them to Lauren, who takes them with just a small hesitation.

“Listen, she has no identification of any kind on her; what about the assurance and all that?” she asks, throwing Dean a short look while the woman is putting her layers of clothing back on. Lauren stops herself from rolling her eyes.

“Just let them admit her as a Jane Doe, they’ll help you sort these things out when the patient has no identification,” Dr.  Barton says, finishing up the papers that need to be in the chart, and then she hands them over to Lauren. “I’m sorry I can’t do much good. From what I see she’s completely healthy.”

Lauren nods and shakes Dr. Barton’s hand. After paying the bill – don’t say she isn’t a good person for paying another woman’s bill(!) – both she and Dean get up to make their leave from the doctor. They don’t speak much when they get back to Lauren’s apartment, and after receiving some clothes that actually fit, Dean silently follows Lauren into her car to get to the hospital.

“Why are you helping me?” Dean asks her with her forehead pressed against the window. Without taking her eyes off the road, Lauren turns her head a little bit. She feels sorry for Dean. It’s obvious she’s a strong and caring woman who obviously got mixed up with the wrong crowd. It’s always sad how people thing they get their happy ending, only to realize they’ve just walked from one nightmare into the other one.

“Because you need it, and I’m not really the type of person to leave a lost woman alone in the park.” Lauren almost shivers at the thought of what could have happened to her if she had remained on that bench wearing the clothes she was wearing. With one hand she reaches out for Deans, and then she squeezes her fingers in reassurance. “It’s going to be fine, don’t worry.”

While Lauren and Dean enter the hospital, a ’67 black Chevy Impala makes its way into the parking lot. Some men eye the car with fascination, but others just frown at it for the noise that it makes. When the doors open, two men walk out of the car, the two being Sam and Castiel Winchester.

Castiel has been the one driving the car, which was the first time for him to ever really do. Both he and Sam know that Dean would _kill_ them when he finds out, but it’s not like they had much choice on the matter.

They’ve been driving all night long, having ended up in an unknown location after Dean’s sudden disappearance. One moment they were in the cemetery in Alpena, Michigan, and then they suddenly find themselves on an abandoned road somewhere at the border of Kansas, with the Impala, which Sam was certain he had left in the garage, standing proudly right next to them.

During their drive they had argued about taking Sam to the hospital right away; Castiel suddenly couldn’t heal anymore, leaving the hunter with his painful shoulder that literally hurt with the smallest movement he made. Sam just wanted to get back to Lebanon first, in hope that Dean would be there. It was after Sam passed out from the pain that Castiel decided that they should go to the hospital right away instead of getting to the bunker first.

Sam slumps forward with little steps while Castiel makes sure he’s locked the car. Castiel looks completely fine in comparison to Sam, though he doesn’t feel that way in the slightest. He can feel his Grace and see right into other people’s souls still, but it appears that all of his powers have been cut off. He knows they’re still there somewhere inside of him, but he just can’t reach them. He also started to have this weird feeling in his stomach three hours into the drive, and it has only gotten worse by the time he got here.

Castiel holds Sam tightly with a steady hand and they make their way inside, earning them more curious glances from other people. It could be because Sam is extremely tall, but it could also be because he’s covered in bruises, dirt and blood.

Castiel feels the sudden urge to take off his coat, and maybe even his jacket. A wave of a weird feeling passes over his whole body and it’s really uncomfortable. Somehow, he’s started sweating underneath his shirt. Oh, he’s warm, he realizes.

“I need a doctor here,” Castiel calls out, bitter that he even has to ask for that. He should have been able to heal Sam without any trouble, and now they are here in a stupid hospital because he’s now completely useless.

A pair of nurses run towards Sam, who is back at the point of collapsing and passing out, and they put him down into a wheelchair, leaving the waiting room with him to get him straight to emergencies. While shrugging off his coat, Castiel walks towards the reception to give the woman sitting there all the details on Sam. He gets a form he has to fill in without receiving even a small glance from her, and then he goes to sit down on a chair in the waiting room.

Two chairs next to him, a woman is seated, too, though she appears not to be filling in any papers. Castiel doesn’t know her, so he doesn’t pay any attention to her instead angrily writing down whatever he knows about Sam.

His mind keeps on wandering off to Dean. Is he okay? Is he safe? Castiel just wants to know that he’s alive, that they’ll find him soon. He keeps his cellphone on in hope that his husband would call. It’s unbelievable; a few hours they were surfing on the beach in the Maldives, and now he’s just gone like that, taken away by a creature Castiel hasn’t seen long enough to recognize it.

He doesn’t blame Sam, though. The man was just doing his job, trying to save people. He had already explained the girl had hurt him just to get Dean and Castiel to him, and while he was still lucid he had done nothing else but apologize to him.

His painful stomach makes a weird noise, and Castiel slightly bends forward to ease the pain, which doesn’t work of course. The woman next to him looks at him with a confused expression.

“Looks like you’re really hungry,” she says, wearing a British accent on her tongue. Castiel looks up at her, surprised that she’s even talking to him.

“Uh, yeah, apparently so,” Castiel mutters, glad he’s now able to place the feeling. Though it concerns him that he even _gets_ hungry in the first place. That’s not supposed to happen, he’s not supposed to sleep, eat, drink… any of that stuff.

The woman stands up then, leaving Castiel alone again. He doesn’t really mind it at all. At least now she wouldn’t be talking to him anymore.

When Castiel is finished with the forms, the woman returns, holding two plates in her hand with pieces of pie on it. Silently, she hands one of the two to Castiel, and then she sits herself down next to him.

“Eat up, from the looks of your guy there, it’s going to be a while before you can get back out,” she says, literally pushing the plate in front of Castiel’s face. With hesitation, Castiel takes it from her, slowly trying to taste a piece of the pie.

He doesn’t dislike it. He doesn’t dislike it at all. It’s actually really good, and soon enough he’s taking his second bite, and then his third. The pie is gone before the woman even gets halfway, and when he looks at her, she’s smiling at him.

“That man, was he your husband?” she asks while looking at the ring he’s wearing on his left hand. Castiel shakes his head and puts the plate down in the empty chair next to his.

“No, my brother-in-law,” he says a little sadly. “My husband, he’s- he’s missing.” He can’t help but lower his head at that. His eyes start to tingle, which annoys him very much. He only realizes he’s crying when the first tear is rolling over his cheek.

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” the woman says, putting a hand on his arm in comfort. “I got here a few minutes ago too because I found a woman who has lost her memory. She’s married and all, but she doesn’t remember a thing.”

“That’s really unfortunate,” Castiel reacts, and the woman nods at him. Then she looks up, squeezes Castiel’s arm one last time and gets back to her feet.

“That’s for me,” she says, pointing at the doctor standing in front of another woman. Castiel can’t see her face, neither her soul, but in the end it’s not like he could have done anything to help her. He can’t bring back her memories with a touch of his hand. Instead he nods as well, forcing a little smile.

He can hear the doctor talk to them, saying that there’s nothing to see on the scans they’ve made. Apparently, the woman just simply lost her memory without any reason. He tries to stop listening because it isn’t his business. He takes one last look at the forms and checks if everything is filled in. Then he walks to the reception to hand them to the girl sitting there.

“Thank you, sir. Your friend has been taken into surgery to stop the bleeding, but somebody will let you know when he gets out.”

Castiel freezes on the spot because he hadn’t even considered the fact that Sam would be needing surgery. It’s all just such a big mess, panic seems to raise inside of him, and before he knows it he’s sitting in the same chair, hunched forward with his hand in his hair, and silently crying out in fear for his husband and his brother-in-law.

Dean had been right; things were going so good something surely was going to happen. The other shoe was going to drop, and it has dropped deeply.

This time nobody came to comfort him, but when the surgeon appeared about three hours later to tell him that Sam was going to be fine, he decides that that is the best news he’s probably going to hear all day, so he cherishes it.

 

* * *

 

 

_Lebanon, Kansas,  
Lauren  Porter’s house, ten days later_

It’s like there’s this darkness surrounding her, going on endlessly in this empty void she’s finding herself in. There’s no sound, no breeze of wind, nothing to indicate that she’s even still alive. Dean feels cold and alone, panic quickly going over her as the current situation comes over her.

Why is she here? What is happening to her? What has she done to deserve this kind of punishment?

Suddenly, a baby shrieks, and the space around her lights up a little. Dean turns her head towards the source of the noise, finding that there’s suddenly a room a few steps away from her. With slow movements she goes forward, keeping her hands in front of her in case she might trip.

The room looks like a typical nursery, but something’s strange is going on there. There’s a figure sitting on the ground next to a crib, looking at the ceiling and screaming it out. Dean wants to help him, to take him away from there because somehow she knows something bad is going to happen.

Her words are proven right when the whole ceiling seems to catch fire. The man on the floor shouts even harder, but finally gets up to pick the baby out of the cradle. Then he turns towards Dean, shouting things at her that make no sound. She just doesn’t hear him, though his mouth is moving. Still, she knows what to do, and she takes the baby in her arms. Her tiny arms. One look at her body, and she realizes she’s a kid as well.

Wetness rolls over her cheeks and she understands she’s crying, casting one look at the woman hanging on the ceiling and burning up in the flames that have appeared out of nowhere. _Take your brother outside as fast as you can and don’t look back. Now, Dean, go!_ She never heard the man call it out, but she knows that’s what he said, so with her tiny arms and tiny legs she carries the baby wrapped up in blankets and she runs down the stairs, straight to the front door that is, of course locked. Clumsily she gets the lock turned, and when the fresh air finally gets to her, the baby is gone. So is the burning house behind her.

The whole place around her is darkness all over again, and she barely even notices the chain wrapping itself around her arm until it’s too late.

“No!” she calls out when her other arm gets taken as well, and when the chains go around her feet, she knows it’s useless to fight it anymore. She’s wearing a torn white shirt and ruined jeans, and she can see she’s completely covered in blood.

She shouts it out when a hook gets pushed inside her shoulder, and then she gets pulled up, hanging on by that hook. It hurts so much, and she can’t stop crying, but she still knows it’s going to get worse than this.

The most horrifying creature comes to stand before her, holding a knife in his hand and the ugliest smirk on his face. She knows this man, this demon, and she wants to throw curses at him, but she just can’t. She then finds that her lips have been sown together, leaving her unable to talk. Her clothes are now gone as well, and the tip of that knife gets pointed towards her stomach.

The demon talks to her, praising her for God knows what, and then offers her the same thing he’s offered her every time. And despite hurting in literally _every_ place she can imagine, despite there being pushed so many things inside of her in every possible way, she still says no. And that’s when the knife breaks her skin again, and the blood pours out of her.

Before she knows it, the roles are reversed and she’s no longer hung up on that rack. Where she had been hanging a screaming woman now is in place, held together in the same way Dean had been. She’s already completely naked and obviously torn apart. Dean knows it’s by her own hand, she’s the one holding the knife, so who else could it be, right?

The woman begs, despite it not being the first time she’s been tortured. She tries to speak to Dean, to convince her to stop, and though Dean is screaming on the inside, she can’t seem to stop her hands from moving when once again she’s cutting a long line in the woman’s skin.

And then the sky seems to break, and the woman cries out in relief at the sudden light that appears above them. Dean holds up her hand to cover her eyes, and a little further away Alistair screams for her, telling her to get out of there. Dean doesn’t listen, too enchanted by the light slowly coming down on her.

The light travels around her, brushing over her legs, arms, neck, everywhere. It feels warm and comfortable even, and it feels just perfect when the light enters her stomach, settling somewhere inside her. She feels safe and protected all of the sudden, and there’s this voice inside of her head now talking to her.

 _Dean Winchester, I am here to save you. You must come with me_.

And Dean nods, dropping the knife on the floor. A little further away Alistair starts screaming for him, telling him not to go along, but Dean ignores him, allowing the light to surround him again. Then the light takes on a humanoid figure, and what appears to be its arm reaches out for Dean’s shoulder. He nods at the light, and upon making contact, massive wings appear from behind the form of the light.

The creature doesn’t have a face, but Dean can clearly feel lips touching her own when it leans forward. Dean has to close her eyes to protect them from the light, but she leans in to the kiss, holding tight to the creature in front of her.

 _I love you_ , rings through her mind, but now the voice of the light is more clear, low and strong. It’s a familiar sound, a comfortable sound, but she can’t place it. Instead she deepens the kiss, pressing her hands on the creature’s cheeks to press it closer.

When they pull apart lightly, Dean caresses her lips against the Angel’s – because it must be an Angel, right? It saved her from that Hell she was in. In a whisper she talks back to it.

“I love you, too,” she says, but then the Angel is gone, disappeared into thin air, leaving Dean alone in darkness again. In panic, she looks around, seeing nothing but black around her. Her breathing speeds up again, her heart beats way too fast, and her fists are clenched tight.

Then a small light appears again, a little further away. There’s the silhouette of a figure standing there, though now it’s wearing clothes. Her eyes cant’ leave what appear to be its massive wings. Though she can’t see him clearly, she knows he’s beautiful.

She takes a step forward, trying to move closer to the figure, but there’s no change in the distance. When she moves forward, the silhouette moves backwards. No matter how many steps she takes, she just can’t reach them.

For a moment, she stops walking, trying to think it through. What else could she do to get closer? The Angel obviously isn’t trying.

She thinks she’s imagining it when two small figures appear next to the Angel, and the massive wings disappear. The man still stands there, holding out his hands towards the two small shadows. Dean recognizes it as kids, toddlers even. His kids? Her kids? Does she have kids? She does feel a strong need to get to these kids and hold them tight in her arms. She wants to have them close, and to tell them that she’ll never leave them again.

 

 

She tries to take another step. Nothing happens. So now she shouts towards the three.

“CAS!”

“Hey, hey, hey, Dean!”

Dean’s eyes fly open in shock and she jumps when she feels two arms touching hers. Trying to struggle free, Lauren holds up her arms in surrender, stepping away from the bed Dean is sleeping in.

“You were crying in your sleep for a while now, but you just wouldn’t wake,” she explains to Dean, who crawls against the headboard of the bed and wraps her arms around her legs. The memories come back through her head; she’s been staying at Lauren’s place for the last week, visiting police stations almost on a daily basis. Lauren has taken care of her, given her a roof over her head, offering her food and a bed to sleep in. Lauren is a friend, a good person.

“Okay,” Dean finally mutters, nodding fast as she comes to the conclusion that she doesn’t have to fear Lauren. She throws the covers off of her and comes to stand up, pulling up the pants of Lauren’s pajama pants she’s borrowing. Lauren is a little bit taller than Dean is, so they’re a little bit too big for her.

Getting help from Lauren has been like experiencing everything for the first time again. It has been established that Dean can’t dress herself properly without looking like a homeless person or something like that. She always goes to wear multiple layers of clothing despite the heat, and each time Lauren sends her back to show her which clothes she _should_ be wearing if she wants to appear acceptable for public.

The second part is that Dean never really thought of wearing a bra. The first two days she’s gone without them, but that has gotten uncomfortable enough that she mentioned it to Lauren eventually. Lauren had looked at her in surprise, bringing up bras as if they’re the most normal things in the world. So they went shopping for underwear for Dean – since Lauren’s breasts are a little bit bigger than Dean’s are, she needs smaller ones.

They had spent Lauren’s day off at the mall the whole day, getting clothes that Dean likes. They’re never really over-feminine, but at least she doesn’t look like a junky or something, according to Lauren.

One glance at the clock on the wall tells her that it’s ten in the morning, which is late enough for her. Dean goes to the closet filled with the clothes they had bought for her, and silently gets dressed as soon as she sees that Lauren isn’t in the room with her. She decides to wear the soft satin underwear they had gotten together. Lauren had said it helps in seducing a handsome man, but so far Dean has never had any interest in trying to seduce men. Her eyes have only fallen on women, which she has told Lauren two days ago. Last night she even had a pleasant conversation with the bartender, and she hopes that if she goes again today she might get lucky.

Dean knows it’s horrible; she’s married, she shouldn’t do this and all that, but they’re ten days further and there are still no memories of her husband – or wife, probably? The police hasn’t come up with anything either, so she just decides that whatever her life had been before losing her memory must have been crappy enough to get away from it. Hell, if even the person she’s married to hasn’t even tried to find her, it’s enough sign for her that it’s not worth going back to, right?

After checking her figure in the mirror she satisfied with how she looks. She has to admit that her figure isn’t bad at all. Her arms are a little muscular, and she does have a little chubby belly, but it’s not much and Lauren has even pointed out that it’s cute. Dean has no intention of taking any kind of diet because she’s looking great the way she does. Even her bow-legs are what makes her who she is.

She pulls on the first jeans she finds in her closet, but waits a while before taking a shirt out. Her eyes linger on that tattoo she has on her chest. She’s been looking at it almost every day, trying to figure out what it stands for and why she would possibly have put it on her in the first place. The handprint also makes her think for a few minutes. Upon seeing it, the doctors have been inspecting it curiously, trying to find the mystery of a burning mark in that form. One had even suggested on doing a skin-graft to remove it, but Dean had refused it. The last thing she wants is to stay in the hospital longer than necessary, and the mark doesn’t hurt her at all.

When she finally gets into the kitchen, Lauren has already served up her plate with pancakes, still filling her cup with coffee. Dean accepts the cup when she hands it to her, smiling when she finds that Lauren remembers she likes it black with nothing else more. Slowly she takes a sip, almost burning her tongue on the heat, and then she starts on the pancakes.

“You don’t have work today?” Dean asks, looking at the calendar to find it’s a Thursday, meaning that she should have been in the office already. Lauren shakes her head, though.

“Nah, I did some extra hours a few months back and I need to catch up on my free days,” she answers, which is an acceptable enough answer for Dean. They smile at each other lightly before both getting down on their breakfast.

“Planning on taking any guys home tonight?” Dean asks with a grin, mouth still full. Lauren rolls her eyes but doesn’t deny it in any way, which is answer enough for Dean. Lauren is a very sociable person, and also incredibly hot in Dean’s opinion, meaning that no sane single man should ever deny her anything. Something has been buzzing her groove lately, though. According to Lauren, it’s because she’s been stood up by this stranger she met in a grocery store. The jerk, why would he agree on a date and then not show up? Lauren deserves better than that.

“And you, bringing any ladies home?” Lauren asks after putting her cup of coffee down again. Dean wiggles her eyebrows and smirks, but then shakes her head.

“Eh, I don’t know,” she says truthfully, passing a hand through her short hair. She wishes it would just grow out a little because it’s ridiculously short. She knows she doesn’t want to be all prissy and all that, but it wouldn’t hurt her to look a little bit more feminine, right? At least it is a little bit longer than when Lauren had found her, but it’s not really much. “I got an appointment with the garage at noon, trying to see if I can get a job there so I can earn some cash.”

A few days ago the found out that Dean is quite handy with cars, having repaired Lauren’s Volkswagen with no trouble. She did some research on cars afterwards, realizing that she knows almost everything she needs to know about them.

“Seriously? That’s amazing!” Lauren says, punching Dean affectionately on the arm. Dean smiles then, too, trying to ignore the feeling of the wedding ring, now hanging around her neck. It just feels wrong to keep wearing it if there’s not even a single initiative coming from her partner trying to find her. It might be for the best. At least she’s free now, right?

“I’m going for a smoke,” she then says, grabbing the pack of cigarettes from the counter and walking towards the front door. Lauren waves at her from where she’s seated, but doesn’t make any indication of moving.

“Smoking’s bad for you!” she calls out, but Dean just shakes her head and makes a dismissive gesture, telling her to fuck off. Then she walks out, taking in the summer heat from the first few days of August. It has been ridiculously warm lately, and more often than not the two women have considered just walking around in their underwear all day long just so they wouldn’t sweat in every clothes they own.

 

 

It’s about eleven by now, so she might as well just start the walk towards the garage. She could stop by a coffee shop or anything to get a quick reload on the caffeine, but she needs to finish that cigarette first.

She started smoking without even needing to get used to it, which could probably mean that she used to be a smoker in the past. It only started again for her when a woman at the bar offered her a pull from her own. Something stirred inside of her, reminding her that her body likes it, and since then she’s on it again.

She knows that it’s not healthy, but in the end there’s not much that _is_ healthy anymore. She’s going to die one day anyway, why trying to avoid the inevitable?

Once the cigarette is finished, she enters the first coffee-shop she finds, only stopping before going in when she sees a beautiful black car standing outside. Her mouth falls open and her eyes go wide as she takes in the beautiful Chevy Impala in front of her.

“Oh, baby, you’re one beautiful car,” she mutters to it, wanting to pass her hand over the hood but deciding not to. There might be an alarm or anything, and he doesn’t want an angry owner on her back. If that beauty would have been hers, she wouldn’t have anybody else touching it either!

Instead she decides to go inside, of course bumping into a random guy carrying a cup of coffee. Everything happens so fast and before she realizes it, the whole, hot, content of that cup ends up on her shirt.

“Son of a bitch!” she calls out, taking off that shirt right away when she remembers she’s still wearing a black top underneath it. She’s lucky the liquid hasn’t fallen on her pants, too, or she would have to return back to the house to change.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” the man calls out, holding out his hand to her. She pushes them away, folding the shirt in two and throwing it over her shoulder. “Are you okay?” the man asks, and Dean looks up at him.

The face looks vaguely familiar, but she doesn’t know from where. He’s tall, that’s the first thing she really notices. He has this ridiculously long hair that needs to be cut, serious hazel eyes that look as if they haven’t seen sleep for a few days now, and his lips are a thin line. There’s scruff on his chin, and his right arm is stuck in a sling, which kind of makes her laugh.

“Better watch where you’re going, sasquatch,” she tells him, patting him lightly on his uninjured shoulder before moving past him. The man stares at her without saying anything, and it makes her feel a little bit uncomfortable. Why is he staring? Has she done something strange? Is there anything on her face? Oh, please, don’t say he suddenly got distracted by her now-naked shoulders.

She gets asked for her order, and then she just waits by the counter, letting other customers pass when they get their drink. Her eyes turn back towards the giant man currently sitting at a table with another dude. She can’t shake the feeling that she knows him from somewhere, but after staring at him for a couple of minutes she just gives up, deciding that it’s her amnesiac head messing with her. Her order gets handed to her, and she takes it, walking past the two to get back outside. The tall man eyes her as she passes them, but the other man doesn’t look up at all.

Once outside, she starts up another cigarette, and then she’s on her way to the garage.

 

* * *

 

 

_Lauren Porter’s house  
Lebanon, Kansas, two weeks later_

Dean can’t say if the dreams get worse or not. At least there’s no more pain like the previous time, but they are still kind of terrible and filled with sadness. So far, she has never managed to reach the guy. It goes the same like always; they kiss, they declare they love each other, and then he’s far away, sometimes with the company of the two toddlers.

In the background she just hears a crying man, calling out for her, begging her to come back home, to return to him. But she just can’t, because every time she tries to get closer, he gets further away. So every morning, Lauren wakes her up because she’s screaming that same name again.

It must be that Castiel-guy she’s married to, right? Her memory is just trying to recall him, to show her that he misses her, but that idea just makes her sick in the stomach. Mostly because this morning she’s not awoken by Lauren, but by the pretty redhead she brought home last night. What was her name? Valerie? Vanessa? She doesn’t remember at all, which makes her even sicker.

“Dean? What’s wrong?” the girl asks, sitting up with her hair pointed everywhere. She’s still naked, so is Dean, and she’s rubbing her eyes in confusion. Dean just shakes her head and lowers herself back down the bed, wrapping the covers over herself again.

“Nothing, don’t worry,” she says, not really inviting the girl to remain in bed with her. Luckily, she seems to catch her meaning and she gets out, dressing up slowly before walking to the door.

“I’ll be going now, but please don’t be afraid to call anytime,” she says. Dean nods without moving any more, and otherwise ignores her.

That’s how it goes most mornings after he’s brought someone home. During the evening it’s all fantastic and bliss, but as soon as she wakes up from that same horrible dream all she just wants to do is hide away under her bedsheets.

Working at the garage offers her enough distraction at least, and by now she’s managed to point towards the guy that she’s capable enough of fixing up cars. Lauren’s agenda is pretty filled lately, but at least they spend most evenings behind the TV watching episodes of Dr. Sexy and enjoying a bottle of beer together.

Lauren never asks about the girls she takes home. Dean never talks about it. She just goes to work, comes home, searches for relief whenever necessary, and then does her job of hiding away from the world again for the whole remainder of the day.

There isn’t much to say. She hasn’t been filed up as a missing person, nobody has recognized her. She shouldn’t be bothered about that potential husband of hers. Yet, she is, and it sucks.

By the time that she’s been at Lauren’s for over a month, she has given up hope of ever finding her previous family again. And to make it even worse, she pretty much has a panic attack when she notices the blood on her bedsheet for the first time.

“Lauren!” she calls out after jumping out of the bed. Lauren stands in her bedroom before she’s even reached her closet, and then she points towards the mattress. Lauren raises an eyebrow at her in surprise, and then she crosses her arms.

“Dude, Dean, you’re just on your period,” she tells her. “It’s completely normal.”

Dean opens her mouth to say something in return, and then shuts it again when she’s out of words. She looks down to her pants, finding them covered in blood as well.

“Oh,” she mutters out loud, wrapping her arms around her body. “I knew that,” she then adds defensively. Of course she’s on her period. Lisa had been on her period too every month when they still lived together. Dean even had to buy tampons for her back in the day.

Huh, where did that thought come from? That small blur of an image of this Lisa-person quickly disappears again before she can even place the face. Whatever she remembers from that Lisa is now, once again, gone out of her memory. Damn brain!

Lauren just rolls her eyes and then walks out of the room, indicating for Dean to follow her. They go towards the bathroom, and then she points towards the drawer there.

“Tampons and pads are right there,” she explains. Then she opens them up to reveal the packets. Dean nods lightly, feeling completely out of her comfort zone. These flashes of memories that keep on coming over her really keep distracting her for the remainder of the day.

For the first time since she’s arrived here, she just wants to return to the comfort of home. If only she knew where home was.

 

* * *

 

 

_Lebanon, Kansas_

_Men of Letters HQ, two weeks later_

The table in the main room is stacked with books, all lying in places they shouldn’t be. Some of them are on the floor, but others are on chairs, on the table, or even on the couch.

Linda had tried to clean the room back up in the beginning, but eventually gave up when the mess she got rid of kept returning. Instead she spends her days in town, meeting up with the new friends she’s made. Kevin, on the other hand, stays by Sam’s side to help him with his research.

They have been trying to find any cases that are considered ‘weird’ even for them, but so far they’ve found nothing. They know they’re dealing with a trickster by now, having put together all the facts they had on the creature that took Dean. Other than that, they’re still in the dark.

“Maybe we should ask Cas for help?” Kevin asks for the hundredth time that day, and by now all Sam can do is roll his eyes and huff a breath. He tries not to shrug – because damn his shoulder still hurts – but it’s a close thing.

“Kevin, you know Cas is sick, we’re letting him rest for now,” he tells him, reaching for his phone the moment it goes off. “Mike, talk to me.”

“ _Hiya, Sam, I’ve been doing that research you were asking me about, but I’m afraid I just found another pile of jack squat,”_ the other hunter says on the other side of the line. Sam can’t help but sigh in frustration, and he sees Kevin slump back in his chair in disappointment.

“So, no noticeable alien-abductions? Or men disappearing near a mystery spot or anything?” he still tries, knowing very well that if Mike didn’t find anything, there’s nothing to be found.

“ _No, nothing on the radar, nothing on the scope. I’d say that’s a good thing; these tricksters are real sons of bitches.”_

Sam huffs out a breathy laugh for the major understatement, but decides not to bother Mike with all the details of their previous ‘trickster’. Instead he rubs his eyes again and stares down to his papers.

“No… yeah, yeah, yeah, you’re right. I hear you, Mike. Thanks, that is a good thing,” he mutters out, biting his lips for a moment while he thinks. “All right, well keep me posted if anything does pop up.”

“ _Alright, watch yourself, Sam.”_

“Yeah, I will. You got it,” he answers, adding a soft thanks before hanging up again. Without saying anything to Kevin, he walks up towards the hallway, needing to get into the bathroom and splash some water in his face.

The police scanners remain on the entire time they find themselves in the main room, and one or two times Lina Tran comes along to hand them something to eat before going to Dean’s bedroom to bring Cas a bowl of soup. Poor guy, barely human and already has he caught a cold. He’s been coughing his lungs out for the past few days, and Linda has ordered him to stay in bed until he felt a little bit better. Sam and Kevin haven’t seen him this past week, which is really depressing since they’re all in the same building.

Things aren’t going well for Cas. He’s miserable, he cries whenever things get too hard, and he sleeps badly apparently. Dean’s disappearance has really taken a number on him, but there’s nothing much they can do for now except find him.

When one day his internet lands on an article telling him about a man that claims he’s been abducted by aliens, he feels a jolt of enthusiasm passing him. A gasp of breath leaves his mouth, causing Kevin to look up from his own screen.

“You found something?” he asks sleepily, rubbing his eyes from the exhaustion. Sam turns the screen towards, Kevin and lets him read the article. It’s not much, but it’s the best they’ve found so far. All his instincts tell him to run towards Dean’s room to tell Cas the good news, but remembering the Angel’s sickness stops him. It wouldn’t do them any good if Sam, too, gets sick. So while Kevin reads, he grabs his cellphone and dials Castiel’s number.

It takes a while for the Angel to answer, but when the click comes, he smiles.

“ _Sam. Hello,”_ Castiel’s gruff voice says on the other side of the line.

“I think I might have found something,” Sam tells him, positioning his right arm so he can continue scrolling once Kevin hands him the laptop back.

“ _Oh, good,”_ Castiel breathes out, “ _good_.” He sounds a little groggy, Sam finds, and before he can say anything else the Angel starts coughing again. It sounds painfully.

“Cas? You there?” Sam asks, fearing that he might have dropped the phone.

 _“It’s okay, I’m… um… I’m okay. Go… go on,”_ Castiel gets out, coughing again, but this time even louder than before.

“Alright, get this, a man around his thirties claims to have been kidnapped by an alien while he was on this business-trip in Wisconsin. It could be the trickster, right?”

“ _It could be poss-,”_ Castiel doesn’t finish his sentence as once again he starts to have a coughing fit. Sam, who has been standing up while he started speaking, waits for the Angel to be finished. “ _Sorry_ ,” then comes out.

“Actually, you know what… now that I’m looking at this more I think I uh… I think I jumped the gun here, buddy,” Sam says, deciding that it’s best if Castiel doesn’t get too involved in this. He can’t come along anyway, better not get his hopes up.

 _“No, Sam, you said it was something_ ,” Sam hears Castiel says, and in the background there are shifting noises; He’s trying to get up. Not good, not good.

“Yeah, uh… it’s… it’s not, I was wrong, sorry,” Sam lies, ignoring Kevin’s surprised look. He can’t explain it to the Prophet right now. Sam sits back down on his chair behind the laptop, trying not to bump his arm against the table because last time he did that it hurt like a bitch. Again.

“ _I can help,_ ” Castiel says defensively, though the shifting noises are now gone. The Angel sounds frustrated, though. Sam knows he’s doing a poor job of lying, but he has to try anything to keep the Angel away from this case.

“Cas, I know you can, but with your current situation there’s not much you can do,” he says, realizing too late that it’s the wrong thing to say. He looks at Kevin, finding him shaking his head in disbelief. Then the Prophet slams his hand against his forehead.

“ _My current situation,”_ Castiel mutters in disappointment. “ _You mean me being human.”_

“No, Cas, you know that’s not what I mean,” Sam throws back. They had this conversation before, but the Angel just never wants to believe him.

“ _It’s what you were thinking, though_ ,” Castiel says in return like he always does. Sam takes a deep breath, trying to find the best way of averting this disastrous conversation.

“No it’s not. Listen, Cas, what happened, happened, and…” Sam hesitates for a moment, trying to find what he needs to say. Last time he saw Cas, the Angel had looked like crap all the way. He can’t come on this case because not only will he slow Sam down, he will also be a danger to himself. Sam really doesn’t want to be the one to tell Dean that his Angel didn’t survive because he was too stubborn to stay in bed. “You need to be worrying about yourself. I really shouldn’t have bothered you.”

Cas doesn’t say anything, which could only mean two things; he’s thinking, or he’s fallen asleep. Sam just waits for him to talk, hushing Kevin down when the Prophet tries to say anything. Kevin just looks grumpy, crossing his arms and slumping back in his seat.

“ _How are you, Sam?”_ Castiel asks then. At least they’re over the past subject. Sam can’t help but smile a little at Castiel’s attempt to change the whole conversation.

“Good. I’m alright,” he tells him, then yawning from the exhaustion he feels after researching for so long on such little sleep. “I’m just… tired, you know. Be better when we get him back… after… after I kick his butt.”

He looks at Kevin again to see if he’s laughing as well, but the Prophet looks like he’s passed out on the table. Must be tired as well. If Linda finds him like this she’ll get angry again, chastising him about good sleeping hours and all that jazz.

“ _I miss him, Sam,_ ” Castiel says, voice sounding like he’s about to break down again. It cracks, and he just sounds so hurt.

“Yeah,” Sam acknowledges. He can’t think of a thing that would help the Angel against the pain he’s feeling.

“ _I keep on reaching out for his dreams, but I just can never get close enough to talk to him. It’s really frustrating.”_

"At least we know he’s still alive,” Sam offers as comfort, and Castiel hums in agreement. “Listen, I’ll find that trickster, get the info out of her, and then we can go get him.”

“ _I still can’t figure out why she took Dean. What was the point of that?”_

Yeah, what was the point indeed? They keep on asking themselves that question a lot lately. Sam sighs, then, and calls out a small goodbye to the Angel. He doesn’t wait for an answer before hanging up.

 

* * *

 

 

_Meanwhile_

 

Dean can’t remember how many she’s had, but it must have been enough to get the whole room spinning. She has to hold on tight to the bar while she leans forward and asks for one more. The bartender just rolls her eyes at her before handing her a new bottle. Dean figures she must be frustrated because she never called back. Ah, how sensitive these girls are, she realizes.

Lauren has her arm wrapped around her shoulder while she slurs out a story about one of her last cases. Dean hasn’t been paying attention, but she just starts laughing the moment Lauren does. Other people around them eye them in annoyance, probably from the noise they’re making. But Dean doesn’t care, because right now all she can think of is taking that pretty brunette back to the house and have an incredible night with her. Heck, if Lauren’s interested, she could even join. She did admit once that she experimented with girls back when she was in college.

“K’raoke?” Dean suddenly slurs out when she remembers there’s a couple of microphones standing a little further away. Both she and Lauren turn their heads towards the small stage, and burst out laughing again.

“I know the _perfect_ song,” Lauren calls out. She motions the karaoke-set towards the bartender, and the woman – damn, what was her name again – just rolls her eyes again. This woman should lighten up and get a beer or two. Or three. Or four. Or a hundred.

And then they could try to have a foursome. That could be an awesome experience. Who wouldn’t want that? Four hot women all enjoying their bodies together. Dean has to stop trying to imagine it or she might pass out from over-excitement. Instead the grabs Lauren by the arm and stands up from the barstool. She’s a little bit unsteady on her feet, but at least she manages to reach the stage without falling on her face. Lauren is right behind her.

There are a few disagreeing sounds in the rest of the bar. Dean feels the urge to tell them to fuck off, but decides it’s better to just ignore them. Pretending they’re not there might make them leave.

Lauren clicks on the screen a few times, her long nails making a ticking noise every time she touches it. It makes Dean laugh again for no reason. Then the music starts playing, and Dean nearly doubles over from laughing when she recognizes the song.

“Oh no, you didn’t!” she calls out towards the other woman. Lauren nods wildly, pressing her bottle of beer against her lips to drink again. Dean waits for her queue, holding on to the microphone and tapping the rhythm with her feet.

“ _I’m too sexy for my love, too sexy for my love, love’s going to leave me_ ,” she sings out, really off-key. Okay, so she never has been the best singer, who cares? Well, probably those people booing at her right now, but still, who cares? They can all fuck off.

Before she can continue singing, Lauren grabs the microphone away from her hand, obviously forgetting that there’s a second one lying on that table a little further away.

“ _I’m too sexy for my shirt. Too sexy for my shirt, so sexy it hurts!”_ She slurs out even more off-key than Dean has done. Then they go together.

“ _I’m too sexy for Milan; too sexy for Milan, New York and Japan!”_ they call out. Dean takes another swing from her beer, and Lauren seems to be forgetting to continue the song, currently trying to take off her shirt.

“Turn it off!” a girl in the crowd calls, and Dean decides to ignore her. Lauren doesn’t, though, and while she’s still in the middle of unbuttoning her shirt she throws a dirty look towards the girl. With the microphone held close to her mouth she starts shouting back.

“HOW ABOUT I TURN YOU OFF!” she calls out. A few surprised gasps come out of the crowd, and Dean decides that’s probably their queue to leave. Before Lauren finishes unbuttoning her shirt she takes the woman by the arm and pulls her off of the stage.

“Come-on sweet cheeks,” she tells her roommate. After grabbing their stuff from the bar and offering the woman money for everything they bought, she tries to lead Lauren forward.

“That bitch told us to turn it off! How could you just let her do that?” Lauren asks in utter surprise. Dean wraps her arm around Lauren’s hip, and together they get moving. It’s still fifteen minutes walking until they’ve reached the house, so they should get moving.

“Eh, that place was no fun, anyway,” Dean says in return. She loves the fact that Lauren is even more drunk than she is. She poor woman can barely even stand. She really shouldn’t have been wearing those high heels; now she can’t seem to stop tripping over them.

“But Deaaaaan,” Lauren whines, leaning forward a little bit to take off those deadly shoes. “It’s my favorite bar!”

“You really have no taste,” Dean mutters to her. Lauren gasps a breath, pretending to feel insulted.

“Slut!” she calls out the way she always does, and Dean simply smirks back at her.

“Whore,” she throws in return. It’s a thing they do a lot lately. They don’t mean it, though, it’s all just for fun. With trouble they get themselves moving again. Lauren keeps on tripping despite taking off the shoes of death, so they have to slow down their pace. How late is it even?

“Well well, what are you two pretty girls doing here all alone?” a creepy voice suddenly asks, coming out of a dark alley they’ve just passed. Dean stops walking and looks into the darkness, but she doesn’t see anybody. Could he have imagined it?

But no, there _is_ someone there, now walking out of the black to show his ugly face. Well, no, he’s not ugly. Not ugly at all. But he just has this look; something weird he does with his eyes that makes him look creepy.

“Fuck off,” Dean says, finally speaking the words she’s been thinking all evening long. She tugs on Lauren’s arm again to get her moving. The lawyer obeys.

“Yeah, fuck…” she hiccups once. “Fuck off!” she repeats Dean. She’s adorable, Dean finds. But adorable not in a loving way, but more in a sister kind of way. Otherwise it would just have been awkward.

The man doesn’t take a no for an answer, though, and reaches out for Lauren’s arm. The woman shrieks it out and tries to pull away. She’s shaking wildly with her arms to get him off of her, but he’s apparently too strong.

“Hey you asshat, let go of her!” Dean yells at him, punching him straight in the face. He grunts in pain and falls down on the floor. Dean just opens and closes her fist to get the sting out of it, and then she goes for Lauren, who has stumbled against the wall to get herself up straight.

The man is up again in no time, though, this time grabbing for Dean. The moment he touches her shoulder, though, she pushes his arm away with a strong force, reaching for his other hand that is obviously intending to slap her, and then the kicks him right in the stomach. One time, two times, three times. Then she lets go of his hands and pushes him back, punching him in his face again. To finish it off, she kicks him hard in the nuts, causing him to cry it out in pain. His nose is now bleeding, which surprises Dean a little. How could she possibly be that strong?

She doesn’t intent to find out, though, again going for Lauren and pulling her with her.

“We need to get out of here before he gets back up,” Dean tells her, taking over Lauren’s shoes. The woman looks less drunk now, too. So it’s true that a scary situation can get you sober in an instant. That comes in handy, though she will miss that pleasant buzz they had going.

They don’t bring up her fighting skills again afterwards. Mostly because Lauren doesn’t remember about it at all.

 

* * *

 

 

_Men of Letters HQ  
Dean and Castiel’s bedroom, a few hours later_

Castiel had been on the verge of falling asleep again when she appears. It’s a subtle sound, just the fluttering of feathers, but it’s unmistakably an Angel close. Castiel begrudgingly opens up his eyes to see who the new presence is, finding Hannah next to the bed, looking down at him with squinted eyes.

“Castiel,” she greets him, eyes traveling down his body above the bedsheets.

“Hannah,” he greets her in return. The Angel in front of him looks down once more before averting her eyes. For a moment, Castiel wonders why she’s looking away. “I’m sensing awkwardness,” he tells her, sitting up from the bed.

With her eyes she motions towards his open robe, and with a sigh he pulls it together before standing up completely. Then he opens up the door to make his way to the bathroom. He needs to freshen up his face before he can handle this conversation.

“How are you doing?” she asks him. He turns towards her in surprise, unaware that she had been following him. Does she even know about what happened in the last two months? Can she see his limited Grace?

“I’m doing well enough, considering,” Castiel tells her in return. Once he’s reached the door to the bathroom, he opens it and gets inside. Hannah stays outside, though. At least she knows enough about humans to understand privacy.

“Considering what?” she asks him while he lets the cold water splash over his face. It feels amazing to freshen up like that. He rubs his mouth and nose clean before answering her, though.

“Considering the fact that I’m as good as human,” he clarifies. Then he dries up his face again and picks up an old shirt he’s left lying on the floor a few days ago. Without putting it on, he walks out of the bathroom where he meets up with a shocked Hannah.

“I don’t understand, your Grace is still there?” she asks him. Castiel lowers his head, at least glad she can still see his true visage underneath this vessel. With a light shrug he’s back on his way towards the bedroom, dropping the white shirt on the bed before turning towards the closet.

He doesn’t have any clothing of his own so he picks up some stuff from Dean. He takes out a black boxer and decides to go with one of Dean’s old t-shirts instead of that white shirt he’s brought along. Hannah eyes him silently while he gets himself dressed. He doesn’t bother for socks yet seeing as he’s not really planning on going outside. He does put on the slippers Linda brought for him to keep his feet warm anyway.

“How is Heaven? Castiel asks without answering Hannah’s previous question. The Angel shrugs at him lightly.

“It’s doing fine. Azrael has big projects, but otherwise things are pretty much how they’re supposed to be,” she explains. Castiel nods and turns back towards her.

“And Metatron?” he asks. He just needs to be sure.

“Still in jail. His door has been made permanent after an escape-attempt. It failed, though; nobody has ever managed to escape.”

“Why are you here?” Castiel then finally asks. It’s not that he’s not happy to see her, but he just really doesn’t get why should possibly show up in his room like that. Hannah watches him carefully, inspecting closely.

“It has been a while since we saw you,” she tells him. “We just wanted to know if you were alright.”

“How did you even find me? I’ve never given you the location of this building?” Castiel suddenly realizes. He walks past Hannah when he recognizes that strange feeling of hunger. He must get something to eat because he doesn’t like that feeling.

“Gadreel and Abner told us. Don’t be mad at them, they didn’t really want to say it at first. It took a lot of convincing.”

Castiel doesn’t feel mad in the slightest. He just keeps on walking through the hallway and makes a turn when he gets to the entryway for the kitchen. He dives towards the fridge right away unsurprised when he finds absolutely nothing inside of it.

“Sam?!” he calls out into the building. Hannah turns her head behind her, but Sam doesn’t appear. In the background he can hear Linda Tran shout something back.

“He’s not here anymore!” she says in her high voice. “You get back into bed before I’ll hit you with my spoon!”

Castiel only rolls his eyes. That threat doesn’t scare him anymore; he’s heard it so many times. He tries to look through all the cupboards, and eventually finds some crackers that are eatable enough.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind that, though, Mrs. Tran,” Crowley shouts back from the other side of the hallway. Hannah raises her eyebrows in confusion, and Castiel just feels his cheeks redden at the insinuation Crowley makes. That’s just ridiculous, why would he even say that?

“Ew, seriously, Crowley?” Kevin groans out from somewhere else. At least now Cas knows who is at home and who isn’t. It’s like a typical day at the HQ, though.

“You look sick. Maybe I can help you?” Hannah says after having inspected Castiel for a while. He stares at her for a moment, but then eventually nods. Any help is welcome, and this way he could at least help Sam in his search for Dean. So he nods, allowing Hannah to hold her hand above his chest and curing whatever illness that has been going on inside him. He feels his lungs clearing instantly, and there’s no longer that fear of coughing every time he as much as breathes in.

“Thank you, Hannah,” Castiel tells her while he opens up the bag of cookies. She just nods at him, and then takes a step back.

“I must be going again, now,” she tells him. “We’ll come and visit again very soon. Just pray for us when-ever you need us and we’ll come down for you.”

Castiel then nods at her thankfully, unable to hold back a smile before she leaves. After that he’s alone in the kitchen, ready to eat those crackers. After that, he could get moving. There are plenty of cars downstairs, right? He knows enough of driving, and he has a fake driver’s license in his wallet, so it shouldn’t be much trouble.

Now he needs to know where Sam is in the first place.

“Kevin!” he calls out, figuring the Prophet could be his best guess at finding answers.

 

* * *

 

 

 

If you want visuals on Lauren, Dean and the Trickster; here you go

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and feedback are always appreciated <3


	13. I’m on my period, I need comfort food

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam has found a lead to the trickster that took his brother, and he's on his way to find her. Meanwhile, Dean and Lauren go to the store to stock up some food and walk into an unfamiliar familiar person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll apologize in advance that this chapter is much shorter than the other ones. I'm struggling with a little bit of writer's block, and this is all I got out in this past week. I'll hope it'll do.
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: VAMPIRESSSS

_September 7 th 2014  
Amherst Junction, Wisconsin_

Sam contacted Drew Nealy the moment he walked out of the police station to check his records. Guy’s completely clean; has a wife and two kids, has some high position in a firm with a big name – though Sam never really heard about it – and often went on business trips for some meeting or something.

On the phone he sounded shaky and hesitant to say the least. He never managed to finish his sentences and more than once he dropped his phone, making Sam having to call him again. Eventually they managed to agree to meet at a cheap diner so they could get their dinner as well. Sam’s back is aching from driving all the time, but he won’t stop looking until he finds his brother. This is the closest they’ve gotten at it so far, so now’s not the time to take a break.

Sam arrived a few minutes earlier at the diner to take place at a table far enough from other people. He asked the waitress to direct Mr. Nealy here when he arrived, and she winked at him in return with a wide smile.

Once he’s seated he takes out his cellphone and dials Castiel’s number. The Angel picks up immediately.

“ _Yes?”_

“Where are you now?”

Castiel stays quiet for a moment. Then there’s the sound of a car passing by.

“ _I am about an hour away from the motel,”_ Castiel then tells him at last. Sam turns his wrist to check the time and then nods, despite Castiel not being able to see that.

“Yeah, okay. Just get to the motel, and we’ll figure out what to do next,” Sam instructs him. Castiel makes a small grunting noise in agreement, and then both men hang up. It’s good that Hannah was able to heal Cas from his cold. He could really use his help to go after this trickster. They’re usually difficult to kill.

Right after putting his cellphone away, Sam catches the waitress pointing towards him. The man standing in front of her follows her finger and then nods thankfully. This must be Drew Nealy, Sam figures.

The man comes to sit down in front of him after a small greeting. Sam nods at him and shows him the badge Dean made for him. Nealy eyes it carefully for a moment.

“Okay agent. What did you want to know?” he then asks bitterly. Sam could understand that; he’s been called crazy ever since he came up with the statement of the alien abduction. He’s seen as a joke here. Sam could understand all he wants to do is return home again.

“I wanted to know everything that happened that night,” he tells the man in a gentle voice. Nealy nods lightly, but then shakes his head suddenly.

“No, no, no,” he mutters out, pressing his hands against his head. “You’re just going to call me crazy like all the others. I’ve had enough of that.’ Nealy doesn’t dare to look Sam in the eye, but keeps his gaze fixated on the table where Sam’s hands are resting.

“That’s okay, sir. I’m pretty open-minded about these sort of things,” Sam tells him, which is a lie. He doesn’t believe in alien-abductions. The only reason he’s ready to listen to this upcoming crap is because he knows the trickster played a part in this.

And so Nealy starts to explain how he was on his way to the meeting when it happened. He made a quick stop at Biggersons’ to get a cheap drink before getting to the office. There had been nothing wrong on the streets. It was just suddenly when he was grabbed while on his way towards his car.

The ‘experiments’ that happened to him are vague as well, but that’s probably more out of shame. He’s shaking all the time while he speaks. Sam then goes to his notebook where he takes out a sheet of paper. On it there’s the face of the trickster – Cas managed to draw it down in full details. Sam shows Nealy the drawing.

“Have you see this girl around here lately?” he asks. Nealy studies the picture for a while. It’s quite detailed, actually. The girl has a round face, dark hair that is cut straight to cover her forehead. Cas even managed to get in the nose piercing Sam had barely even seen.

Nealy remains quiet for a minute, looking pensive while he takes the drawing in. Then he nods lightly.

“Yeah, yeah I have,” he tells Sam with shaky hands when he hands the picture back to him. “She took my order back at Biggersons.”

Sam nods and puts the picture back in the little notebook before hiding it into his inner pockets again.

“Okay, thanks for your time,” Sam tells him as friendly as he can. The two shake hands for a moment before Nealy stands up and makes his way out. Sam waits a moment before he does the same.

While he walks outside of the coffee shop his cellphone starts ringing. He doesn’t pick up right away, though, because a group of people just manage to enter the shop, leaving him with the struggle of pushing his way out.

Right at the point where a normal person would have hung up already, Sam manages to pick up the phone. He can’t help but sound out of breath when he presses the device against his ear.

“Yeah?” he asks.

“ _Sam, I’m at the motel, where are you?”_ Castiel’s low voice asks from the other line. Sam passes a hand through his hair and finally lets out that yawn he’s been holding for so long.

“I’m at a coffee shop called ‘ _Le café royale’_ or something, I can’t pronounce it right,” Sam says, reading off the name of the shop from the banner on top of the door. What this thing they have with calling their shops and restaurants French names?

“ _Should I come to you or is there something else I can do?”_ Castiel asks. Sam waits a moment while he thinks.

“I’m going to the last place Nealy was before he disappeared. You could join me there?” he asks, passing the locations of the place on to Castiel. The Angel makes a confirming sound, and then hangs up. Sam puts his phone back into his pockets, and then tries to fish for the keys of the Impala. It’s really not easy doing everything with just one arm. That is why, at the moment that he wants to put the key into the lock, the damn thing falls on the ground.

“Son of a bitch,” he mutters to the ground. He then kneels down and reaches out for it.

“Hello, Sam,” a voice says from behind him, and Sam shoots up right, turning towards the source of the voice. He finds a young girl standing there; the same young girl that took Dean. This time there’s enough light for him to see what she looks like, exactly.

She has long brown hair, a round face, and deep brown eyes. There’s a small smirk on her face, and in her nose there’s a tiny piercing. When she speaks, he sees that her teeth are snow white.

Before he can say anything to her, she has two fingers pressed against his forehead, and after that it’s dark.

* * *

 

 

_Lebanon, Kansas  
Local grocery store _

Going shopping with Lauren is like entering a never-ending train ride. They stop once in a while to let some out, and then to let some in, and then they keep on repeating the process again and again. Most of the time Dean just slumps behind her without even trying to act as if she’s enjoying herself.

She has her hands tucked deep inside the pockets of her jeans, and her boots hit the floor loudly while she walks. In the beginning Lauren had commented on it, asking her to lift her feet, but eventually she gave up. Good, because it’s already boring enough.

Okay, so Dean might be a little grumpy because she’s tired; can she help it that this woman, Prya, had the ever-lasting libido that even Dean eventually had to give up. Her muscles still hurt from all the workout they’ve done together, and if Lauren hadn’t promised her those fantastic burgers from that one diner, then she wouldn’t even have bothered to come at all.

“Ah, come on, Dean! Lighten up a little, will ya?” Lauren asks when she stops again to compare two different brands of pasta. Dean grumbles out a snarky response, but she’s not sure if Lauren had heard at all. After the woman has been standing there for one full minute – wasting exactly sixty seconds more of Dean’s life – Dean throws her arms in the air and groans out in annoyance.

“Jezus, Lau! Just pick the cheapest!” she almost yells, taking the blue box out of Lauren’s hands to put them back on the shelve. Then she pushes her in the back to get her out of the way, deciding to handle the cart now. It could speed up things a lot. The younger woman makes a face at her but Dean couldn’t care less. She starts walking forward, passing aisle by aisle where she keeps on taking out everything they need to survive another two weeks.

Lauren has trouble keeping up with her, having the need to add more than they actually wrote down. She can easily slip in a bag filled with lollypops, or a box of cookies. When she gets to the package filled with brownies, Dean eyes her with a glare.

“Hey, leave me alone! I’m on my period, I need comfort food!” Lauren says to defend herself. Right after that, she’s gone again, making a turn around one of the aisles to get some stuff that couldn’t be found here. Dean just rolls her eyes and moves forward to finish off their checklist.

She knows why Lauren is taking so long; she’s stalling in case that ‘beautiful stranger’ returns from where-ever he’s been. The woman keeps on saying that she would rip him a new one were she ever to see him again, but Dean knows she’s too much of a hopelessly romantic for that.

Dean pushes the cart towards the dairy-products when she comes to the next item on the list; five new bottles of milk and some yoghurt. Dean decides to add some pudding on that list, and when she takes a package of it, she suddenly starts smirking.

“Heh, pudding,” she mutters to herself. It causes a woman next to her to look up in question, but she doesn’t pay attention to it. She just checks if the pudding is still good for a while before she drops it in the cart, and by the time she’s ready to push forward again, Lauren is once again next to her with a smile, holding a box of popcorn.

“Movie night tonight?” she asks hopeful, and Dean rolls her eyes again. Lauren is really hopeless, but she’s good company at least. She couldn’t ask for a better roommate. She nods towards the cart to accept her proposal, but before she starts walking again she stops Lauren.

“Better make it two boxes; you know my appetite,” she tells her. Lauren smiles and shakes her head lightly, but without commenting on it she starts walking back towards where she came from. In her mind, she starts going through the movies she knows they have. Knowing Lauren, they’ll be watching _Pretty woman_ or _27 Dresses_ or some other chick flick. Dean’s first instinct would be ‘no way!’, though she doesn’t really know why. Those movies are enjoyable enough to watch, but there’s like this programming inside of her that screams inside her head every time she watches one of those movies with Lauren, telling her to get the hell out of that couch and to stop lowering herself to those standards.

Maybe she didn’t like those movies back when she still had her memory… It could be that.

“Excuse me?” a shaky voice asks from next to her, and Dean realizes that she’s been standing in the middle of the hallway, taking all the place. With a quick apology she takes a step back, nodding lightly towards the teenager trying to pass.

Sorry, dude,” she tells him, and when her eyes land on his face again, that feeling of recognition is back again. Her mouth falls open in an attempt to say anything, but what could she possibly tell that boy?

He, too, seems to find her familiar apparently. For the next few seconds, all they do is stare, inspecting each other thoroughly. The boy couldn’t be more than nineteen years old. He’s Asian, has messy black hair that needs to be cut, and he’s wearing a dirty hoody.

After a moment, another woman comes to stand behind the boy. She’s Asian too, and quite obviously his mother or something – Dean could see that in the protective way she comes to stand before him.

“Can I help you or anything?” the woman asks her when she realizes that they haven’t been moving at all since she arrived. Dean wants to answer, wants to speak up and say what’s actually wrong, but before she can speak Lauren comes to stand behind her with a big smirk.

“Hi, what’s going on?” she asks enthusiastically. The woman behind the boy looks up at her, but she doesn’t’ speak.

“It’s nothing,” Dean then says to relieve the tension. She turns back towards her cart and takes the handles in a tight grip. With a small force she pulls the damn thing along as she tries to move forward, away from those people. A strong, uncomfortable feeling passes over her as she thinks back of their faces.

_I mean, come on. How long’s it take to get a calf skull from Egypt?_

Lauren bumps up against Dean’s back when she comes to a stop quite suddenly. Where did that thought come from? It’s not something she’s ever said – heck, it must even be the most disturbing thing to even think in the first place.

Still, an overload of information passes through her mind, and she just can’t process it on time. The only thing that comes out of her mouth is: “Kevin?”

Two soft gasps come out from behind her, and a confused sound appears from the woman standing next to her. Lauren has her eyebrows frowning hard and her nose scrunched up. There’s a complete silence while Dean tries to concentrate on what’s happening right now.

She thinks that the boy is called Kevin, but she doesn’t know why. What makes her so sure that it’s his name?

“Dean?” the boy calls out, then, making Dean’s heart speed up. She still doesn’t turn around, though. Too afraid to face the truth.

It’s the first time someone’s recognized her. And it freaks her out.

Instead of responding to him, she lets go of her cart and makes a run for it. She passes through the alleys, bumps into a few of the customers, before finally going through the check-out lane. She knows she’s left Lauren all alone there with two complete strangers. She just couldn’t stay there. It would force her to face the truth.

So Dean runs. She runs as long as she can, and when her lungs finally start to hurt, all she does is drop down on the grass in the park, and she just lies there.

Because somebody has recognized her.

And they’ve obviously never been looking for her in the first place.

 

* * *

_Amherst Junction, Wisconsin  
… probably_

That is literally Sam’s first thought when he wakes up. It hurts, in his shoulder, in his neck. There’s this strange pressure on his wrists. He should really stop hunching forward, because his back too is killing him.

He sits back up, grunting in pain when his muscles object to that. How long has he been there? Where is there anyway?

Last thing he remembers is having an interview with this guy, Drew Nealy, and hearing _way_ too much information on his ‘abduction’. After that, everything is pretty much a blur. He was on his way to the Impala. He dropped his keys, and then somebody was talking.

And now he’s finding himself here; in an unknown location, legs and wrists bound to the chair he’s sitting on.

Oh crap, he thinks to himself grumpily.

“Sam, Sam, Sam, it has taken you a while to find me,” the voice of a young girl says a little further away. He tries to find the source, but it’s too dark for him to see anything. He squints his eyes as he tries to focus when a blur finally emerges.

“Who are you?” he asks her. He grinds his teeth together to keep himself from groaning it out in pain. In an instant, the shadow of the girl disappears, and he feels a presence behind him. Then her hands comes to rest on his shoulders, squeezing a little bit too hard in his opinion. A small scream escapes his lips.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I sometimes forget how strong I am,” the girl says, not sounding sorry at all. She lets go of him and walks around him, standing still when she’s completely in front of him. Then she kneels down lightly and stares him deeply in the eyes. She doesn’t speak while she inspects him. Sam can’t see the details of her face, but he can make out the dark eyes and the dark hair. This is the girl he’s been looking for. The Trickster he’s been hunting.

“You know, I’ve been dead for so long that I have to get used to being alive again,” she adds to it. Then she claps him on the knees softly before standing up again. “Now, why are you hunting me and not your brother?”

Sam throws his best glare at her, but she seems totally unaffected. Despite the warm weather that has been going around lately, he starts having the chills. Probably from all the dried sweat on his body and in his clothes.

“You took Dean,” he bites at her. “Bring him back!”

The girl presses a hand on her chest and opens her mouth in shock, acting as if she’s taken aback from his reaction. She starts walking towards Sam again and kneels down once more, this time reaching for the ropes.

“Oh, I’m sorry! Sure, I’ll do that!” she says, before tightening the ropes instead of undoing them. Then she leans forward, keeping her face right close to his. “In case you’ve forgotten, you’re the one tied up here. So you won’t be telling me to do _anything_.”

Her breath tickles his ear as she whispers to him, and he shakes his head to back away from her. The girl now glares at him and takes a step back. She then crosses her arms, letting out another sigh.

“Listen, it’s not like I wanted to be here,” she starts saying. She lowers her face to look at her shoes. Her long brown hair falls over her shoulder in that small movement. “I’ve just been a bad kid for a long time, and now I’m being punished, too. Daddy’s rules and all…”

Sam just can’t find it in himself to give her any form of sympathy. He balls his hands into fists, ignoring the glaring pain in his shoulder. It’s just low of her to try and sweet-talk herself out of this. She just has no excuse for taking Dean. His brother was finally happy for the first time since forever, and this bitch just took it away from them.

“You think I’m going to feel sorry for you?” he bites at her. The girl, who had turned her back towards him, now looks up at him. Her face looks weird; as if she’s actually feeling any remorse<< about this.

“I have my orders, Winchester!” the girl explains. She points towards her chest as she continues speaking. “Find Dean Winchester, and make sure that the Prophecy is going to be followed through. Only then will I regain the free will I fought so hard to gain.”

Sam takes a moment to analyze what the girl said. Free will and Prophecy’s? This all sounds too much like business coming straight out of Heaven. Or at least the Heaven from a few years ago. He puts together the details to come to his conclusion.

“You’re an Angel?” he asks her. The girl doesn’t comment, so he continues. “You’re an Angel that’s being punished for disobeying heaven, am I right?”

The girl chuckles cynically and shakes her head. “Oh, I had forgotten how smart you were. Good job, Sammy! That was correct in one guess.”

Sam could curse then; if he’s dealing with an Angel, he would need an Angel blade to stop her, which he doesn’t have on his pocket right now – he should really start thinking about bringing one along. At least she doesn’t seem to want him dead, so that’s something. He needs to distract her, and maybe he could pray to-

Oh, right. Cas is practically human. He can’t pick up on prayers anymore. Damn it!

“What is the Prophecy?” he asks. He might as well get all the information he needs out of her. The Angel – damn, he really needs to find out her name – sighs loudly and drops herself in the chair in front of where Sam is sitting.

“Something about him being important for the survival of Heaven,” she says to him, probably remaining vague on purpose. “I won’t tell you the details or you’ll be doing anything you can to stop it from happening, _which I can’t have_.”

“So all in all, we’re just Heaven’s puppets again, am I right?” Sam asks bitterly. The girl looks up for a moment as if she’s thinking, and then she nods.

“Yup, that’s about it,” she says. “At least this time you won’t have my two bro’s riding your asses, if that makes you feel better?”

That doesn’t make Sam feel better at all.

“Ah, last time I tried to make you follow through on a Prophecy foretold long before you were even born, and still you managed to escape from that fate.” She takes a few stands of her hair and twists them around her finger. “But you were lucky, the world didn’t end, so least I didn’t die for nothing when your idiot brother made me choose sides,” the girl says, looking at Sam pointedly. And it’s then that he realizes who he’s been talking to all the time. The discovery must be clear on his face because the Angel smiles smugly at him now.

“Ah, finally. I said you were smart, but sometimes you can also just be so oblivious,” she says, making a lollypop appear in her hand, already unwrapped.

“Gabriel,” he says, glad he can now at least put a name on her face. Or his face? This is confusing to say the least. He decides to go with she, since she’s currently residing in a female vessel. “What’s with the gender bend, dude?” He can’t help the smug smile appearing on his face.

Gabriel shoots him an angry glare but doesn’t make any indication of moving.

“That’s just a precaution from dad to keep me in line. He won’t give me my old vessel back as long as the Prophecy isn’t fulfilled, which by the way is going to take a while.” She’s literally pouting, which is actually really hilarious. Sam chuckles, leading to Gabriel throwing him a strong glare.

“What’s the deal with the Prophecy? A while ago some of you Angels were keen on killing Dean for meddling all the time. God didn’t bring back any Archangels from the death back then?”

“Yeah, to say it short; our brothers changed the course of destiny by deciding to get it on already. I’m sure they told you about the story Metatron wrote down?” Sam shakes his head in denial, feeling a little pissed that they failed to mention that. Stupid brother and stupid Angel being in stupid love…

“Metatron would have closed down Heaven, banishing every Angel residing upstairs instead of him. You would have almost died badadee badida, the punchline is; Dean would have become a demon after getting killed by Metatron, and while you were trying to save him from eternal damnation, you would’ve practically almost ruined the world again. Which sounds bad, but I think dad’s intention was to bring peace on both Heaven and Earth? The guy works in mysterious ways, right?”

Sam’s mouth falls open a little bit from the overflow of information that gets thrown into his face. Gabriel just tells him all that as if it’s nothing, as if it’s just a daily business for her.

“Come to think of it, things really changed it for the good, right? Less people bite the dust this way.” A smirk appears on Gabriel’s face, but Sam is unable to return it to her. “Dad was just pissed off that the three of you once again crossed his plans, so this time he planned something new, making you guys the main characters – because _that_ has never happened before.” She adds that last part a little bit sarcastically.

“Is any of us destined to die again?” Sam asks bitterly. Gabriel’s eyebrows go up in surprise at his question, and when it’s clear she doesn’t quite get it, he goes on. “It’s like every time we’re doing something that was ‘destined’ or when we try to save the world, somebody dies, so who is it this time?”

Gabriel doesn’t answer, but looks down pointedly, which is answer enough for Sam. It’s a confirmation that at least _one_ of them is going to pay with his life… Again.

Son of a bitch.

“Dude, you know that we’re going to try _everything_ we can not to let you Angels decide over our lives again?” Sam tries to warn Gabriel, but she just snorts with raised eyebrows.

“Not that your pathetic attempts would have succeeded, but because all Heaven underestimated you multiple times already I blocked Castiel’s Grace just to be sure,” she reveals. “Also, it’s just me and a few other Angels currently not residing in Heaven. The others don’t know God has even returned, and they are to remain clueless about this.”

“Oh, so you’re going behind Azrael’s back?” Sam asks, before realizing there’s another question to be asked instead. “A few other Angels? Who, then?”

“Ah, no, no, no, giant, that’s not the information you are destined to have yet,” she chastises him. Sam could throttle her for acting like he’s a child. “And Azrael’s nothing. I’m more powerful than her, so why should I even fear her?”

“Hmm, I don’t know, she’s pretty wrathful,” Sam bluffs. So far she has done nothing that could really be considered wrathful, though banishing Cas could really come close in his opinion.

“Ooh I’m shitting my pants already!” Gabriel says mockingly, wrapping her arms around herself. “Oh, wait, no, I’m not. You know why? _Because I’m an Archangel!”_

“Dude, you’re a pretty crappy Archangel, then. How stupid are you even for leaving a trail like that?” Sam asks after she lets out another bored sigh. Gabriel now finally stands up, stretching her arms and shoulders a little bit before walking forward. With just a blink of her eyes Sam’s ropes are loose.

“Don’t think I freed you out of the goodness of my heart,” Gabriel says while Sam tries to get the aches out of his limbs. It’s such a relief to finally be untied again. “It’s just time for you to find Dean again, so I must send you on your way. That’s by the way also the reason why I let you find me, since you asked so friendly.”

Sam feels a wave of excitement pass through him at her words. This means he’s going to get Dean back, isn’t it? He’s going to get the details on where his brother is, and then he will go and find him the moment he can!

“Where is he?” he asks eagerly. Gabriel raises an eyebrow at the question and turns her back towards him.

“You crossed path with him a few times already, actually,” she tells him with a smirk. “One time in a coffee shop, even?”

The image of that woman appears in his mind right away. He had accidentally poured his coffee on her, and when he had seen her face, for a moment he had thought it was Dean. Of course, until he remembered that she was, in fact, a woman.

“Gabriel, why is Dean a woman?” he asks while trying to conceal his anger. Gabriel opens her mouth, but then closes it again right away. She doesn’t give an answer, but simply shrugs. Right, Prophecy-stuff. Great.

Sam decides to just leave right now. It’s still a few hours driving until he gets back in Lebanon, and he needs to find Dean right away. He didn’t recognize him back then at the coffee shop, which could only mean that Gabriel took his memory away.

“So wait, Dean has been in Lebanon _all the time_?” Sam asks before passing through the door. Gabriel nods happily.

“Yup!” she calls out. Sam takes a deep breath to control his anger, and then moves to get out again. Gabriel stops him by appearing before him, though.

“Sam, once you know all about the Prophecy, you’re going to try _everything_ to stop it from happening. I have to warn you that by doing that, you’ll be heading down a dangerous path. More specifically, _Hell._ ”

Sam’s insides turn cold from Gabriel’s warning. She sounds so serious about this so she’s probably not joking. But what could Sam possibly do that has something to do with Hell? Isn’t Hell closed down?

“How is that possible? The doors are sealed?” he asks her while grabbing her shoulder with his uninjured arm. She simply rolls her eyes at him and sighs again.

“Those tablets have been written eons ago, smarty-pants. There’s a backdoor now that hasn't been there when the scribe was assigned to write them down, I’m sure you know where it is?” she asks him. Sam doesn’t react because, no, he has no idea at all. “Wyoming? The Hell’s gate?”

Realization dawns in on Sam, and suddenly he feels like he’s running out of time. There’s only one way to open up that gate, and they lost it while trying to face off Lucifer for the first time.

He can worry about that, later. First he needs to find Dean. They’re stronger together than apart.

“Dean’s staying at Lauren Porter’s house!” Gabriel calls out for him. “But get there in time because he’s been leaving his scent everywhere, and a group of vampires is already on his trail!”

 

* * *

 

_Lebanon, Kansas  
Lauren Porter’s house_

 

To say she’s welcomed back inside with open arms is completely wrong. The moment Dean opens the door she gets to duck, barely missing the pillow that is thrown in her direction.

“You bitch! You left me in the shop! All alone! With those strange people I don’t know!” Lauren shouts out, screaming her lungs out of her body. Dean holds up her hands to push away another few pillows.

“Lau!” she tries in an attempt to calm her down, but the woman doesn’t listen. Instead she grabs another one, already sending it in the way before Dean can get to her, meaning that the thing lands hard on her face.

“Ah! Dammit! You had to pick the hard one?!” she shouts out in her anger, getting her hand to her nose to see if it isn’t bleeding. Now that she’s standing close enough to the other woman, Lauren starts punching her lightly on the chest and on her shoulders while she still screams it out.

“I was so worried, you bitch! You can’t just disappear on me like that! You know I have abandonment issues!”

“Since when do you have abandonment issues?” Dean asks, managing to grab her arms, letting her stop punching. She really is stronger than she looks, holy crap. Dean will probably be bruised when she’ll check in the mirror. “Besides, this is roommate-abuse you’re doing. Stop hurting me.”

Lauren then stops trying to struggle free from Dean’s grasp, and her hands relax a little. Her face is still angry, though. Her cheeks are red, her eyes burning furiously. Dean has to admit that she’s kind of a drama-queen. But despite that, Lauren is still her best and only friend. Which is probably why she’s so angry at Dean.

“Listen, I’m sorry I panicked, okay?” Dean tells her calmly. “I recognized that boy, he recognized me, and it just made me realize that nobody has been looking for me in these last two months.”

Lauren’s expression softens, then, and every last bit of resistance in her arms is now gone. Dean finally lets go of her, and both take a step back.

“I hadn’t thought of it that way, I’m sorry, Dean,” Lauren tells her gently, raising her hand to rest it on Dean’s shoulder. The moment she touches her, Dean turns to look to her left shoulder. The palm of Lauren’s hand is situated right above the hand print, but it feels wrong. Lauren’s touch feels wrong. And that’s because it’s not supposed to be Lauren’s hand on it, but somebody else’s.

“Doesn’t matter,” Dean tells her, wanting to dismiss this subject already. “All I want to do tonight is to get hammered, and maybe get laid. You coming with or what?” Dean quickly checks in the mirror if she doesn’t look too much like she’s just had a panic attack. Aside from her hair standing a little wild on her head, she looks okay enough to go out.

When she turns around again, she finds Lauren already standing there with her coat on. She has her eyebrows raised when Dean looks her over. “You ready?” It sounds forced, though. Dean can see that she doesn’t really want to go out. She’s just humoring her; doing an attempt of cheering her up.

Dean should feel guilty, but there’s enough time for that tomorrow morning, the morning after another one night stand that will keep nagging on her conscience for another undetermined amount of time.

“Yeah, sure,” she tells her, shrugging on Lauren’s leather jacket – it’s quite cold outside. It’s only normal to wear a coat – and then they’re both out of the door.

The bar they decide to go to is only fifteen minutes away from Lauren’s house if they go on foot. The parking lot looks full enough, and the inside is kind of crowded. Lauren makes a face upon entering, but Dean just smirks, because there’s a hot brunette on twelve ‘o clock, and with enough luck, she’s a lesbian.

So Dean goes to talk to her, dropping down on the seat next to the woman. Lauren joins her with a scowl on her face, ordering a coke. When Dean throws her a questioning look, the other woman just shrugs.

“I have work tomorrow, I shouldn’t go in hungover,” she tells her dryly. “Go hit on your girl and tell me when you’re ready to go home.” And that’s exactly what Dean is going to do. He turns towards the brunette, who smiles at him with bright white teeth.

Dean learns that her name is Julie, and that she’s working in a bank. She likes sweet drinks and salty snacks. Dean nods the whole time she speaks, letting her eyes drop on the Julie’s full lips, imagining them on hers as they kiss.

It feels wrong.

The smile on Dean’s face disappears upon that realization. This is the first time her mind does this to her even before she’s started, which means that it’s getting worse. She can see Julie talk on, sipping on her drink, and when she suddenly mentions her boyfriend, Dean can’t find it in herself to feel disappointed. Only relieved. Which is ten times worse.

She has to let go of this; they haven’t been looking for her, they don’t want her anymore. She can’t even remember them in the first place, so why should she be looking for the people in her past? Why should she be after the husband that has done absolutely nothing to win her back?

Somebody taps her lightly on her shoulder, pulling her out of her thoughts right away. Dean shakes her head slightly and then turns towards the person behind her.

“Yeah?” she asks with a cracking voice, hating how weak she sounds. The man standing behind her looks friendly enough. He has a soft scruff on his chin, and dark brown eyes. He’s smiling slightly, and frankly, he looks like he’s just walked out of a commercial. About shaving cream or something.

“Could I maybe offer you a drink?” the man tells her with that toothpaste-smile he has going. Dean raises her eyebrows at him and takes him in for a moment. He looks quite tall and muscular, but that still doesn’t do anything to her.

“Hmm, I’m sorry to tell you, pal, but I don’t go for your team,” she tells him in the friendliest way she manages. Despite that it still sounds mean and pissy. Then she notices Lauren sitting there alone with her glass of coke in her hand. “How about my friend behind you? She’s hot, she’s sweet, and she’s in need of letting all that anger go anyway.”

Lauren looks up at her in surprise. Her face looks panicked and angry. She shakes her head, but when the man turns around to look who Dean is talking about, she freezes. Her mouth falls open and she blinks more than necessary.

Oh, she thinks he’s hot, alright. At least one of them is going to get laid tonight. Dean turns her back at the two when they start introducing themselves to each other, and starts her lookout on other ladies. Julie has already left the moment Mr. Toothpaste came over, so Dean needs a new woman to check out.

By the end of the evening, she’s at least hammered. There have been a few women who peaked her interest, but every time she as much as started talking to them her mind started to be annoying again. Lauren’s already long gone, having left with Mr. Model about an hour ago, and since it looks like Dean isn’t going to get lucky tonight, she should better head home again as well.

She pays the tab she and Lauren had up, then pulls on the leather jacket again. After a quick goodbye to the woman she’s been speaking to, she makes her way to the door. She can’t say that she isn’t at least a little bit disappointed her intentions failed that night. So she’s drunk, that has been her first goal, but even now she has to admit that she doesn’t feel drunk enough.

The walk home feels like an eternity. She keeps on tripping over her own feet, and a homeless guy even grabbed her leg once to ask for money. To her own surprise, she punched the guy hard. After that, she apologized in her drunk state, slurring out the words that say that she didn’t mean it. The man doesn’t speak, and it’s until after she’s done talking that she realizes the guy, wearing a patched up dirty coat, has fallen unconscious. Oops. With a start, Dean jumps back up straight to continue on her walk home. The homeless guy quickly turns into a distant memory.

With trouble she manages to get the key into the lock once she arrives at the house. The door won’t budge, so it’s locked. Dean leans with her forehead against the door, eyes falling shut from the exhaustion. Her breath starts speeding up, and eventually she screams it out in her anger.

That’s when she hears the yell inside the house, followed by the sound of something breaking. Dean sobers up right away after that, pushing the key into the lock and opening the door without any more trouble.

“Lauren!” she calls out, taking one of Lauren’s umbrella in her hands as a possible weapon. It couldn’t do much possible harm, she knows that, but Lauren’s baseball bat is located in her guest room – Dean’s room – so she has to get that one first.

“Dean!” she hears Lauren shout out from in her room. Dean sprints over the stairs to get upstairs, catches the bat as quickly as she can, and then marches towards the door to Lauren’s bedroom. With all the force she has she pushes the door open, trying to take in the carnage.

Lauren’s room is a mess; all her books are scattered on the floor, her bedsheets are ripped apart. Dean can even see a few springs of Lauren’s mattress lying around. Her little vases are broken, and so are her little crystal figurine collections. She’s been collecting those for years.

But the worst part is that there are two figures standing in the middle of the room. Mr. Model, now with less beautiful white and straight teeth, and Lauren, standing there in only her underwear with her back pressed right against Mr. Model. He holds her tightly with one arm wrapped around her chest, and with the other he’s turned her head so her neck is bared. All over her face and body she has scratches that are bleeding, and she is sobbing quietly.

“Let go of her, you son of a bitch,” Dean shouts at Mr. Model. She’s surprised her voice still sounds strong despite the sharp teeth she finds in the man’s mouth. He doesn’t even look human more, and Dean feels the sudden urge to cut his head off – which is a disturbing thought.

“Winchester, at last,” the man tells her with a smirk, mouth close to Lauren’s throat. Dean has to handle this slow. She holds the baseball bat tighter, despite knowing somehow that it won’t hurt the guy.

Lauren whimpers when the man – the vampire, Dean’s mind tells her – blows a breath on her skin. She has her hands clutched against his arms, but has obviously given up the fight to break free. Dean doesn’t speak – what should she say to the guy? She’s out of her debt here; nothing sharp in the room – except of course the shattered pieces of glass, but that won’t be enough to do any damage other than cutting herself in the attempt of picking them up. Bleeding out all over the place doesn’t seem like the wisest thing to do here.

“You been searching for me?” Dean then asks, finally knowing what to say to him. As long as it distracts the guy from Lauren, everything is good.

“Oh yeah,” the man says in a low but smug voice. He has an annoying grin that doesn’t match up with his fangs, so he looks extra ridiculous. “For a while now, actually.”

The man sniffs Lauren’s neck with closed eyes, and then he throws his head back in ecstasy. “She smells good, this one. You Winchesters have good taste in women, I tell you that.” Lauren whimpers again when he passes his tongue over her skin, leaving a wet trail from her collarbone to the underside of her jaw. “You’ve always managed to cover your trail, but these last two months were way too easy to find you. What happened? You finally gotten soft and tired of killing us ‘monsters’?”

“You’re crazy, man,” Dean tells him, but her gut tells her he’s right. Still, she refuses to believe it. She holds the bat up in the air, taking a fighting stance. The vampire just laughs at her.

“You’re ridiculous,” he tells her. “If you didn’t smell like Dean Winchester, I wouldn’t even have believed it was you. Last time I saw you, you were a dude. What, you ran into some witches?” Dean clutches her jaw shut while he speaks. He’s just crazy, right? He’s just trying to mess with her mind. Witches are not real, monster in general aren’t. This guy is just someone who escaped from the nuthouse, with fake teeth covering his real one.

“Listen, tough guy. You want me, not her. Just let her go, and I’ll go with you without making any trouble,” Dean tries. Lauren shakes her head, but when she wants to speak against it, the vampire rests his right hand on her mouth to shut her up.

“Hush, pretty one,” he tells her in a whisper. Then he turns towards Dean with a smirk. “You see, Winchester, I just love the fight.”

And then he plunges his teeth in her bare neck. Multiple things happen at that moment. Lauren starts to scream from the pain, Dean starts to swing the baseball bat towards the vampire’s head to smash it away from her friend, and then the door gets smashed open from behind her. Dean notices two men stumbling inside the room, but she doesn’t get to look at them. The large knives in their hands are enough for her to miss the vampire’s head with her swing. Instead, the bat slips away from her hand and smashes against a hanging picture frame, causing it to break as well.

“Dean!” both men shout out, but Dean ignores them to launch herself towards the vampire still biting Lauren. Or, no, he’s doing something else.

He’s biting his own wrist until it bleeds.

Dean makes a disgusted face, and she finally makes the jump in the attempt to throw the guy off of Lauren. She takes him by surprise, and his now bloody wrist that has been resting on top of Lauren’s mouth now swings in the air while he tries to get Dean away from him.

He’s stronger than her, though. When she punches him straight on the jaw, he just smirks at her and pushes her aside as if it’s nothing. Dean gets thrown in the air and lands on the destructed bed. The springs poke in her back and she thinks there’s a piece of wood that has managed its way in her leg.

“Son of a…” she mutters. The other two men – who are they, anyway? – now go their separate ways. The tall one plunges towards the vampire with his large knife, but the other one gets to Dean. She can’t see his face as her vision is blurred at the moment, but she can catch the image of dark hair.

“Dean, are you alright?” the guy asks her worriedly, putting a hand on her shoulder. She recognizes the voice, but from where? “Dean, my love, please, are you alright?”

Dean realizes she’s been staring into nothingness for a few minutes because now she’s being shaken awake from her trance. In the background there are grunting noises, and then a smash. One of the two must have fallen into something. Dean can hear the large knife drop on the ground quite near to her.

“Just check on Lauren,” Dean tells the man without turning to look at him. With shaky legs she tries to stand up, only to stumble again when she tries to move forward. The blade the tall man had been holding now lies on the floor right next to Dean’s feet, and the vampire is crouching down right next to the man, holding their faces close to each other.

“Sam Winchester,” the vampire mutters to him, loud enough that Dean can hear. She takes quiet steps towards the blade and picks it up without making any noise. The tall man nods at her subtly when he realizes what she’s doing.

“What the hell was your goal here? Kill Dean? Kill this innocent woman? And then what?” The guy seems to be out of breath, so Dean should move quickly before he runs out of it completely. In the corner of his eye he can see the other man running over to Lauren, who lets out a sound of pain.

“I wasn’t planning on killing them,” the vampire call out with a laugh, and at that moment the other man starts speaking.

“Sam, he fed her his blood,” the man says in this low voice that gives Dean the chills. It feels so familiar, but she just can’t place it. The vampire now laughs again, louder this time. Dean lifts the blade up in the air, preparing for an attack. The tall man – Sam – shakes his head at her. Not yet, Dean understands. She stops moving, and Sam does the same – giving up on the struggle to break free.

“Surrendering already?” the vampire asks, sounding a little surprised through his pride. Sam just shrugs lightly, face stone hard and almost expressionless.

Then he gives the vampire a strong push, causing the monster to stumble backwards in the surprise. “Now, Dean!” he calls out to her.

Finally she swings the blade, directing it towards the vampire’s throat.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope it doesn't suck too hard. I apologize for the writer's block. I'm sure the next few chapters will be easier as they'll follow up more on the episodes of the season again.  
> Anyway, feel free to leave a comment if you liked/hated it or if there are any tips/suggestions. Feedback always helps me to the next chapter :-)


	14. You knew you were married, you even had dreams of him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: slight sexual content between Dean and others.

In her time with Lauren, Dean watched a few horror movies. These horror movies were mostly viewed with Lauren screaming her lungs out at some parts filled with angst, and with Dean literally yawning most of the time.

The fact that she often pointed out the inaccuracies of whatever monster-plot made it so that Lauren refused to watch another horror-movie with her. The things that Dean often said were things like _‘That exorcism is pronounced wrong’,_ or ‘ _You can’t kill vampires with a wooden stake!’_

It’s safe to say that Lauren got enough of it and therefore banned Dean from watching horror movies with her.

The real thing is that much different, though. Dean’s heart is beating wildly in her chest. Her hands are shaking and on the verge of letting go the bloodied blade she’s still holding. Her legs are unsteady. She can feel the monster’s blood all over her face, feel it as it dries on her skin while she’s standing there.

All around her, people are talking. There’s the two guys, Sam and the other one with the familiar voice. The last one is holding Lauren in his arms, and she’s clinging to him like she’s afraid he’s going to put her down again. Dean can see her eyes are wet and that there are trails of tears rolling down on her cheeks, but now she’s staring at Dean with wide eyes.

The tall one – Sam – speaks again. He puts his free hand on Dean’s shoulder and gently shakes her, and that’s when the blade finally falls down on the floor.

“I killed him,” she finally says, and now she lifts up her bloodied hand and inspects them curiously. She never even hesitated on swinging that blade through that son of a bitch’s neck, but seeing the body lying there with the head lying a little further away makes her freeze in shock. Because it had been too easy, and she had known what to do despite never even facing a vampire – or whatever it was – before. At least, she thinks she never did.

At last she looks up at Sam who gives her a sad look in return. She finds something familiar in his face, but she just can’t place it. The feeling is enough to let her know that this man must have been important to her before she lost her memory, though.

“Dean, we need to cure your friend before she turns completely, do you understand?” Sam asks her, and while unable to speak, all Dean manages is a nod. Then she drops forward and comes to lean against Sam’s chest. The man wraps his healthy arm around Dean’s shoulder and he holds her tight.

Finally, Dean feels that safety she’s been longing for.

In the end, the other man returned from where-ever he went, and before Dean can really pull back from Sam he, too, is holding her in another tight hug.

“Oh, my beloved,” the man whispers against her ear with a shaky voice. He sniffs once, meaning that he’s crying. It’s much clearer when he suddenly starts clinging on Dean, in an attempt to hold her so close there’s no possible way for her to escape.

But she wouldn’t escape. His arms are safe, warm, and loving. Without even realizing it, Dean turns her face so she can press her lips in the man’s neck. She leaves a trail of soft kisses before resting her forehead on his shoulder. There are tears starting to swell up in her eyes.

“Cas,” she breathes out without realizing it. The man tightens the hug even more then, so she knows the name is right. “Castiel,” she then whispers, having memorized the name that was written on the ring she now wears around her neck instead of on her finger. The man holding her makes an intake of breath before moving his arms around her, letting one hand rest on her back, and the other one lower down to the backside of her knees. Without pulling his face back from hers, he lifts her up from the ground, walking slowly as he moves forward to exit the room.

Oh yeah, Lauren’s bedroom got smashed. Right…

Nobody really speaks when they’re all safely seated in the beautiful Impala Dean saw a few weeks ago. She doesn’t even find it in her to make time to admire the car from inside. Instead she crawls towards Lauren, who seems asleep at the moment. Dean can’t see if her neck is still bleeding because Sam put a cloth against the wound. All Dean can do now is to make sure she knows she’s not alone, so she puts a hand on the woman’s shoulder and keeps it there while the other man – Cas – drives the car.

“Dude, don’t smash the car,” she tells him in a low voice, and Cas just chuckles at her with a light smile.

“Of course not, Dean,” he says, but his voice still sounds strained from the tears. Dean still doesn’t feel at her most comfortable, but all she can really do right now is to make sure both her and Lauren are comfortable.

“Okay, time to explain now,” Dean starts after a few more minutes of driving. The tall one turns his head towards her. Dean can see that his eyebrows are raised in surprise. “Who are you and how did you find us?”

The two men share a quick look in silence, as if they’re trying to figure out what to say to her.

“Dean, I’m your brother, Sam,” the tall one says. Dean’s heart makes a quick jump at the word ‘brother’, and now there’s this sudden ache in her chest. “And this is your husband, Castiel, though we call him Cas.”

Dean nods but can’t find it in herself to smile. She squeezes Lauren’s hand when she tightens her hold on Dean’s fingers. It’s just a small gesture of reassurance, but it’s better than nothing.

“Have you even been looking for me these past two months?” Dean asks bitterly. For the sake of Lauren she keeps her voice low, so she wouldn’t wake her up in her anger. Sam looks back at her with sad eyes, and in the mirror she can catch Castiel’s gaze, looking pained as well.

“Of course, Dean,” Sam tells her. “It took us a while to find a lead towards you, but eventually we did.”

Dean doesn’t react other than turning her head towards the window, watching the street-lights passing by one by one. Nobody speaks anymore, but there aren’t any words left to tell. Dean doesn’t really believe them when they say they searched for her, because there would have been police-reports or anything else with her face on it. But they still saved her life, and Lauren’s as well, so it’s not like they’re completely untrustworthy.

When Castiel stops the car, Dean figures she must have fallen asleep because suddenly they’re not outside anymore, but inside some sort of garage. It’s filled with classic cars that almost make Dean’s mouth water. The moment she gets out of the car, she goes to inspect all those cars one by one, trailing her fingers over their hoods. When she passes by a motorcycle, her eyebrows go up and her lips form into a smile.

A blurred memory passes through her mind; a woman with brown hair asks her to take care of the vehicle. She tells her in return that she will if she’s allowed to take it for a ride once in a while. There isn’t more than that, other than a name passing through her thoughts.

“This is Dorothy’s motorcycle, right?” she asks without seeing if there’s anybody around. When she turns around she finds Sam standing there. Lauren is already out of the car; that Castiel-guy probably took her with him to take care of her wounds.

“Yeah, she asked us to look after it before she and Charlie left for Oz,” Sam tells her gently. He remains standing where he is, leaning against the Impala’s hood with his arms crossed. Dean nods when she finds that the memory matches Sam’s description, and after a soft pat on the vehicle, she walks forward again.

“Oz, are you talking about some sort of costume-party or something?” she then asks, heading towards the door in some strange form of habit. Sam follows her, and in a synchronized movement, he opens the door and she passes through it.

“No, the realm of Oz? Dorothy and Charlie went to fight the witch’s army back there,” Sam explains. Dean snorts loudly before turning right in the hallway. She has no idea where she’s going, but her body seems to know instead.

“You’re a funny one,” Dean mutters to him. Of course her brother must be crazy. Of course he’s the type of guy that believes in monsters and other realms and whatever. Why not, right? It isn’t like she already doesn’t have enough on her plate; add wacko brother on the pile of crap she’s already dealing with.

The fact is, she completely believes him when he claims to be her brother, just because he feels so familiar around her.

“And Cas, eh,” Dean begins, scratching her hair when she comes to a stop in the middle of the hallway. Sam stands still next to her, but doesn’t really speak right away. Dean just wants to know how she’s married to Cas while so far she never really had any attraction towards guys. “how’d I meet him?”

“You really don’t remember anything?” Sam asks him sadly, and Dean feels embarrassed all of the sudden. She shrugs her shoulders lightly, but doesn’t comment on that.

As if on cue, the guy in question joins them in the hallway with bloodied hands and a serious face.

“I’ve given Lauren the cure. She’ll need to rest for a while now, but she should be fine by tomorrow,” he tells them, and then he looks at Sam pointedly. The tall man nods slowly with an understanding face.

“I’ll just… eh… go keep her company,” he says and then he makes his leave through the door Cas came in with. Both Dean and Castiel watch as he walks away, but even after that nobody really talks. Castiel starts inspecting her thoroughly, and seems focused on her stomach apparently.

“What, is my fat showing?” Dean asks, looking down hastily to see if it isn’t too bad. When she lifts up her arms to wrap her jacket closer around her torso, the man takes her hands in his own.

“Dean,” he tells her while taking a step forward. His blue eyes now find Dean’s, and they don’t let go of each other. Instead of pulling back, Dean moves towards Castiel as well, seeking that comfort she craved ever since she remembers.

They wrap their arms around each other in silence. All Dean does is bury her head in Castiel’s neck so she can pick up his familiar smell. Somehow, he smells different than he should; sweaty, like he hasn’t showered since yesterday morning. But there’s also that faint smell of cars, or more precisely fuel. Though those smells are still amazing on him, deep inside she knows he’s not supposed to have that scent.

Slowly, she pulls back to eye him carefully. She’d hoped that her memories would have returned by now, but so far nothing has triggered it yet.

“I was looking at your soul,” Castiel finally says affectionately. He doesn’t remove his hands from her arms while he still looks her deeply in the eyes. “It’s still as beautiful as ever.”

“What does that even mean?” Dean asks worriedly. Like, yesterday all was good in the world, and today she’s pushed into a reality where monsters are real. Who knows what else is real, too? Castiel lifts up his hand toward her face. In panic, Dean pulls her head back. What is this guy trying to do?

“I’ll try to help you remember,” Castiel says softly, and when he moves his hand forward again, this time Dean lets him. The touch of his fingers against her forehead feels good, but better is that feeling of warm energy that emerges from that single contact and moves forward through all her body. It comes in waves, and with every wave that passes through, a new memory opens itself for Dean.

There’s the first one, the one she remembers from that dream she keeps on having. The beautiful blonde woman – Mary – tucking a little baby in bed. And a man – John – holding Dean in his arms while they say goodnight to Sammy.

And then there’s the fire, John telling Dean to take Sammy outside. And Dean remembers running until they were both outside, fearing for their mother’s life.

Dean remembers that she didn’t make it. How that was the last moment they could have called a _normal life_. After that, there are motels, taking care of Sammy while dad is gone. Giving up the last of the cereal because Sammy wanted them. And then holding a fun for the first time.

It’s like Dean is stuck on some sort of train, and she’s making a stop at every possible memory she has. Tears stream down her eyes when the image of Sam dying in her arms returns. Then comes selling her soul, and then a full year of trying to get out of the deal.

The worst memories are from Hell, not only because they’re disgusting and horrifying, but because there’s forty years of them in the small four months he’s been gone on Earth. Being tortured is terrible enough, but when the images of torturing others appear, Dean just wants for it to stop. She grabs Castiel’s shirt tightly and tries to form the words, but she can’t. She feel the man wrap his arms around her while trying to calm her down. Dean still whimpers through it. A drop of sweat rolls off her skin.

The memory shifts; there’s a bright white light in the middle of another torture setting, and then she finds herself into a weird lifeless scape. It’s dark, yet she’s perfectly able to see the creature in front of her.

 _“Dean Winchester is saved!”_ the creature calls out. There’s something that looks like a hand holding her shoulder. His shoulder. A shoulder. And then there's new darkness inside a tight space, followed by Dean crawling out of his own grave. Her grave. Then practically having her ears blown out in the gas station, getting to Bobby who doesn’t believe she’s real.

 _Bobby_ , Dean thinks with pain in the chest. There’s no time for looking back at the good times, because now everything passes in a rush. There’s Castiel being all soldier and talking about the seals, then there’s Sam and the demon blood. The Apocalypse, Cas rebelling to save Earth. Sam sacrificing himself, Cas leaving Earth, leaving Dean. And Dean went to live with Lisa and Ben.

But then Sam came back – without a soul, though – and so did their grandfather, who later on appeared to be working for Crowley. Cas acting weird all year, Death returning Sam’s soul. Dean’s chest aches again when the memory of Cas betraying them comes up.

_“Dammit Cas, we can fix this!”_

_“Dean, it’s not broken!”_

After that Cas became a God, and then he died thanks to the Leviathan he absorbed. Sam hallucinated Lucifer everywhere. Dean drank. Bobby died, Dean drank some more. Sam got crazy, Dean found Cas. Sam cured, Cas crazy instead. Killing Dick, ending up in Purgatory with the Angel, coming back outside without him.

Dean remembers that guilt while back on Earth. Sam hit a dog, found a girl. Then Cas returned, being brainwashed into killing Dean but failing to do so in the end. And then there’s the tablets, and closing the gates of Hell. And Heaven.

Then there’s Dean helping Cas, and the Cupid telling them to be selfish. And then there’s that hour-long discussion of whether or not they should go with it, until at last they decided to do it anyway. Sam closed the gates of Hell, everything was good.

Dean and Cas shared their first kiss after a week, then they made love for the first time after about another month. Then there’s Dean proposing to Cas, the actual wedding with all of their dead friends joining them in the church, and then there’s the honeymoon.

The first thing Dean hears after remembering all of that is the sound of someone falling. Dean opens her eyes – no, his eyes – and finds Castiel lying on the floor with blood pouring out of his nose. His heart feels like it’s suddenly been punched hard, and Dean crouches down to shake the Angel awake.

“Hey, hey hey, Cas!” Dean calls out, hearing his voice for the first time since remembering everything, and it feels weird. It’s that much higher than he’s used to, and the fact that he’s now shorter than Cas really crosses a line in his opinion.

Who-ever did this to them will pay.

The Angel groans when he’s been shaken awake by Dean’s hands, and he lifts up his arms to cover his eyes. Dean catches the wedding ring around his finger, and thinks back of his currently hanging around his neck. Without hesitation he snaps it free – breaking the metal chain he got from Lauren in the beginning. Once the ring is back safely around his finger – and strangely it fits perfectly – he moves forward to pull his Angel back up.

“C’mon babe, don’t go all sleeping beauty on me now,” Dean mutters, but he realizes that all of the muscles he had in his own body have not been moved to this female one, so the only thing happening here is Dean turning red in the face while trying to pull Cas up, but failing at it. Eventually, he thinks about calling for help, screaming out Sam’s name in hope that his brother is still around.

Sam arrives after about five seconds, and the moment he sees Castiel lying on the floor, he sighs heavily. Dean frowns at him.

“Excuse me? My husband lies there half-dead on the floor and all you can do is sigh?” Dean bites at him. Sam just holds up his hand in an apology.

“Hey, I told him not to use whatever power he has left, and he never listens to me, ending up sleeping for another whole day,” Sam explains. Then Dean sees how Sam’s right arm is stuck in a sling. With raised eyebrows, Dean inspects the thing holding Sam’s arm up, but he’s startled out of his thoughts when his younger brother calls out for Kevin.

The young Prophet takes a little longer to arrive, but when he does he keeps his eyes on Dean in confusion, and then in recognition.

“So it _was_ you?” Kevin asks, and all Dean does is to nod slightly. He doesn’t want to think back of that moment. He should better go check on Lauren, but not before Cas is lying safely inside their bed. He helps them out when they start to pick up Castiel, grabbing the Angel’s arm and keeping him from the ground.

The trek to the bedroom is long and exhausting, and Dean’s muscle ache even more now. At least now Cas is able to rest on the mattress. For the first time, Dean sees that he’s wearing his clothes instead of the usual suit. When he wants to ask Sam, the younger hunter is already walking towards Dean’s closet, and picking up some extra clothing.

“Gabriel blocked his Grace, he’s pretty much human,” Sam explains to him while handing him the clothes. Dean takes them with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry, did you say Gabriel? As in the dead Archangel Gabriel?” Dean asks unbelievingly. He already starts to walk towards Cas to take the sweaty shirt off of him. He should probably wash him with a wet cloth or something; wipe the blood off his face.

“Yeah, he’s back. Or she, rather, since he’s now inside a girl.” Sam just shrugs lightly and Dean nods. It isn’t the first time they had an Angel taking a vessel from another gender. Raphael did it before, and even Cas got inside Claire for a few moments. Gender isn’t just that big of deal for them.

“How’d you find me?” Dean asks after returning from the bathroom with the wet cloth. He pulls up Castiel’s bare arm and starts wiping it down, slowly moving to the next one. Sam watches him work quietly.

“Gabriel told us where you were,” Sam revealed. “We rushed back here as quickly as we could. Right on time, too, so it seems.”

Dean chuckles at that while he finishes the other arm, finally passing the cloth over Castiel’s torso. He moves slowly, trying to take back in the feeling of his Angel in his arms. Without saying anything, Dean leans forward to press a small kiss on Castiel’s lips before wiping cloth over his face. He looks so peaceful and calm, stuck in a deep sleep until he recovers from using too much of his Grace.

Sam at least has the decency to turn away when Dean starts undoing the Angel’s pants. Undoing the belt is much more trouble than Dean can recall, and he has to make sure that he doesn’t pull of his boxers along with the jeans. It’s not like he minds seeing his Angel naked, but it’s not like he wants Sam to see it, too.

And while Dean works, Sam explains everything to him; how Gabriel showed up in the middle of a hunt that later on even appeared to be fake, and how he hurt Sam’s shoulder to get Cas there. How Cas then rushed him into the hospital when he found out he wasn’t able to heal him. Sam shows Dean the scar he had from the surgery, and it’s still lightly pink, barely healed in the past two months. No wonder, of course, since Winchesters never really sit still no matter how hurt they are.

By the time Sam finishes, Dean has managed to get Cas back inside loose pants and an old t-shirt. Then Dean throws the covers over him, and presses another light kiss on his forehead before making his leave. He can’t do much more here other than wait for his husband to wake up, and he could do that easily while keeping Lauren company.

His friend is lying in the couch, and Linda Tran is watching over her. She keeps a wet cloth over the woman’s forehead and hushes her when there’s another wave of nausea coming. With a small nod, Dean offers to take her place, but Linda shakes her head.

“I’m good here,” she tells Dean gently while she removes some wet strands of hair out of Lauren’s face. Dean kneels down next to her and takes her hand. Lauren feels hot, and she’s shaking. Dean knows how the curing-process feels, so he doesn’t blame her. He’s happy they at least thought of taking the fang’s blood before rushing back to the bunker.

“Hey whore,” Dean tells her in a greeting. Lauren’s brown eyes open up at the greeting, and she even manages a small smile upon seeing Dean.

“Hey, slut,” she greets back in a shaky voice. Then she takes a deep breath. “I met your husband. He’s charming. And incredibly handsome. Can I have him?”

Dean chuckles, because his best friend probably doesn’t know that she’s saying the things that should better stay in her head. Lauren with fever equals a drunk Lauren, apparently. This could be fun.

“I’m sorry, Lau. You know I would give you anything, but Cas and I, that’s for eternity,” he tells her. Lauren smiles then, and squeezes his fingers.

“That’s good, that you love him,” Lauren tells him in return. “You love him, don’t you?” Linda eyes Dean carefully in search for how he would react, but Dean can’t find it in himself to panic. All he does is chuckle again, causing for Linda’s eyes to open wide.

“Yeah, I do,” he assures her, and then Lauren falls asleep, still in Linda’s arms. Dean offers to carry her to a bedroom, but eventually Kevin comes to do it in his place, telling Dean to get some sleep. And Dean, needing to be close to Cas again, complies, moving to their bedroom while Kevin takes Lauren to an empty one.

Lying next to Cas feels good after two months of sleeping without him. Dean holds him tight in her arms, and looks at his sleeping face – which is something he hasn’t seen very often before. For the first time, though, he falls asleep next to him without Castiel joining him in his dream.

 

* * *

 

 

_The next morning, Men of Letters Headquarters  
Lebanon Kansas_

Sam is the first one to wake up in the whole bunker. He gets out of bed with a yawn, goes to the mirror to check the damage sleep has done to his hair, and then, despite that it goes all the way, he doesn’t style it back the way it’s supposed to be.

Still in his pajamas, Sam walks into the hallway and directs himself to the kitchen. He needs coffee, lots of coffee. That, and also proof that yesterday really happened, that he didn’t imagine it all.

Luckily, the bowl Cas used to make Lauren’s cure is still lying on the sink, meaning that it’s really been used. A sigh of relief escapes Sam’s mouth, and he drops himself in a chair. Right now, there’s a moment he can really relax. His brother is home safely – despite the slight gender-change, of course. There’s time for a little breather, and right now, all Sam wants to do is to take Dean out for a little ride, just the two of them driving around like they used to.

But Sam isn’t sure if Dean would want to do that; he wouldn’t leave Cas alone in the bunker while he’s still vulnerable and unconscious. But Sam figures he also won’t leave as long as Lauren isn’t back in her house safely, so that’s something they’ll need to take care of. It means that they’ll have to find Lauren a new house, erase all leads towards her, and they’ll have to teach her the basics of beheading a vamp. Bet she’ll love that.

Sam is aware that Lauren was that woman he met in the grocery store before Dean disappeared. She was the woman who asked him out on a date to this weird French restaurant, and she’s also the one he stood up when a case suddenly came up. He wonders if she’s still bitter about that part.

Sam decides to treat them all with breakfast, since this is actually some kind of celebration. At least, it’s a good reason for celebrating. So he goes to the fridge to take out a few eggs, and then goes to check if there’s anything else he can use to make something great.

About half an hour later, he’s got a pan filled with scrambled eggs (and extra bacon for Dean), and also a plate filled with pancakes. When he goes to the fridge to take out the orange juice, someone appears in the doorway.

“Bloody Hell, that mattress was hard,” Lauren Porter says while holding her hand in front of her eyes. Her voice is cracking, and her hair looks wild – a lot like Sam’s, actually. Without really greeting him, she goes to sit down and accepts the offered pancake by holding up her plate.

“So, I take it you didn’t sleep that well?” Sam asks shyly, sitting himself back down on his chair and taking a pancake for himself. Lauren shoots him an annoyed look, and then rolls her eyes. Maybe, just maybe, she doesn’t recognize him. Things won’t be so awkward in that case.

“It was okay, I guess… Just a change from my heavenly soft mattress that has been obliterated by a bloody vampire.” Lauren takes the first bite from her food while filling her glass with orange juice. Sam eyes her carefully, once again taken aback by the beauty of her face. Oh, yeah, he remembers why he agreed on that date right away.

“I haven’t forgotten you, in case you were wondering,” she then suddenly says. Sam makes a deep intake of breath, and then he wants to start explaining. Before he can open his mouth, though, Lauren stops. “No, don’t go and try to talk yourself out of it. You were a jerk and stood me up, that’s fine.”

“But I didn’t,” Sam starts, only realizing that he doesn’t know how to get himself out of this one. _I had to hunt down a tulpa that appeared as Slendeman, and then I slept with the hunter that accompanied me, but hey, let’s just start over?_ That wouldn’t come over that well, Sam figures. He swallows, looks down in embarrassment. This is the first time he’s thought of Tracy since returning here. He actually slept with her and never even bothered to call. She hated his guts before thinking that he killed her family. Now she’ll hate him for being a grade-A asshole.

“Ah, I moved on,” Lauren says while waving her hands dismissively. “Of course, Dean knows all about that, so you’ll have to ask her.”

“Him.”

Lauren pauses and looks up at Sam in surprise. “I beg your pardon?”

So Sam sighs and clasps his hands together. What’s the best way of telling her this all? Of course, she’s going to think he’s crazy despite the Vampire that almost killed her last night.

“Dean’s actually my brother. An Angel turned him into a woman for some sort of Prophecy, though I have no idea why,” Sam stutters out while keeping his eyes on his hands. In front of him, Lauren snorts quietly.

“Maybe to become the first female president?” she asks mockingly, and it’s then that Sam realizes she’s not in the least bothered about the revelation that Dean isn’t in fact a woman. Sam now smirks too. Why wouldn’t he be allowed to joke about it? As long as there’s nothing serious going on.

“Did he watch chick flicks with you?” Sam asks her, and his smile grows wider when Lauren nods excitedly.

“Yes! He whines about it before the movie starts, but I caught him crying at a few scenes once in a while! He’s also has this weird addiction to Dr. Sexy!”

Sam nods too. “Yeah, he got all flustered when he saw him once when we were stuck in TV-land. Of course, that was before we knew it was Gabriel pretending to be him.”

Lauren stops smiling then. Her mouth remains fallen open, and her eyes are open wide. Okay, yeah, that was maybe a little bit too much of information. Sam wants to explain it quickly, but when he looks up he finds Dean standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. His face doesn’t look angry, but he does have an eyebrow raised.

“Gossiping about me behind my back – and kind of in front of my face – isn’t really nice, you know?” Dean tells them, and once again Sam is taken by surprise when he hears Dean’s soft and high-pitched voice. “Should I tell her about the time Becky gave you a love-potion and got married to you in Vegas? Or is that too much information?”

Lauren turns toward Sam with a massive smirk on her face and puts a hand on his arm. Sam looks at it in surprise, but his attention is pulled back to her when she starts talking.

“You got married in Vegas under the spell of a love-potion?” she asks him. Sam throws his brother a dirty look, and Dean just laughs in his typical teasing way and comes to the stove to get the scrambled eggs – and the bacon, of course.

“Ah, well, if you two are ever going to get married, she should know the whole story, right?” Dean teases them. Sam feels his cheeks coloring red, and Lauren too blushes at what Dean says. Luckily, the hunter isn’t completely oblivious about the awkwardness. With raised eyebrows and a mouth filled with eggs and bacon, he speaks up. “What did I say?”

Both Lauren and Sam cough in embarrassment, and Sam would really much like to flee right now. He would rather keep his exchange with Lauren quiet, but he knows that she won’t hold back. Because to her Dean is probably still that best friend she can tell everything to.

“Your big brother here lost his chance with me by standing me up on our date,” Lauren explains bitterly without throwing at least one look at Sam. The younger hunter lowers his head. He should really escape, get out of here.

“That was you?” Dean asks with a full mouth. “Whoa, dick move there, little brother.” Dean shakes his head, but he’s still smirking. He then reaches for the can of coffee so he can fill his cup. Sam is glad to see he hasn’t at least lost his appetite.

“Hey, weren’t you on a hunt back then? Yeah, you were all gloomy about the fact that you missed your date!” Oh, thank God, Dean tries to fix it for him. Sam should never say his brother never does anything for him. “Weren’t you with that hunter-chick, too? What was her name, Tricky?”

“Tracy,” Sam bites out, seeing how Dean manages to ruin it again by bringing her up. Dean nods while stuffing his mouth with bread.

“Yeah, you had thing for her, too,” Dean then says. “Did you sleep with her?”

By now, Lauren is looking at Sam angrily, and Sam is just wishing that his brother would shut up. Lauren shouldn’t know he slept with Tracy – and with all those other women that helped him through his hunt. With his hand reaching for the back of his head, he tries to find the best words to get out of this.

“Dean, just because you and Cas get it on every chance you’ve got, doesn’t give you the right to know about my sex life,” Sam bites at him. Wrong words, of course, because he should have denied his brother instead of avoiding to answer. He looks for Lauren’s reaction, but finds that the woman has her head turned towards the door, obviously hoping for somebody else to enter. Next to him, Dean still grins while eating, probably unaware that by embarrassing his brother he actually kind of hurt his new best friend.

As some sort of relief from all the tension, Kevin enters the room with his mouth watering. He doesn’t even greet them before sitting down next to Lauren and taking whatever he can onto his plate. Dean watches him amusingly, and starts asking how he’s been doing. Kevin just shrugs and retells all the moments of research, which is a real boring story.

When Linda Tran enters the room as well, she goes to check on Lauren’s temperature before sitting down. She throws Dean a small smile, and he greets her in return. Now the only one left to come is Crowley – since Cas will probably stay knocked out until tonight at least.

“Listen, though it’s fun to hang out with you guys, I do have a job to get to. So is it possible for me to go home, get some clothes, and then, I don’t know, go back to the old life I had before creatures of the night tried to eat my face off?” Lauren asks after a few minutes of eating in silence. Dean and Sam share a long look and then sigh at the same time.

“That wouldn’t really be safe for now,” Sam explains. “The vampires found you once, they can find you again.”

“You’ll need to relocate, so if you want to return right now, we can help you find a new house. But if you want to stay in your old house, you’ll need to wait until we’ve got them all.” Dean sounds really apologetic while he speaks, which confuses Sam a little bit. He still nods, though, to agree with what his brother just said.

“I love my house, but I need my job, too,” Lauren says as she thinks out loud. “So let’s find a new place, then,” she finally decides, though she doesn’t sound all that sure about it. Dean and Sam nod lightly and stand up at the same time. Lauren smirks at them.

“We’ll get dressed and then we’ll make work of it,” Dean tells her. That moment Crowley walks in, throwing one look at Dean before snorting.

“Lookin’ good, princess,” he tells Dean in a matter of greeting, and the others at the table now laugh, too. Dean shoots them a look of pure betrayal, and then marches out of the room. Before making his own leave, Sam turns towards Lauren.

“Oh, and you’ll better call in sick for the next few days,” he warns her. Those vampires won’t only follow her into her house. They probably know where she works as well. This is what happens when even _one_ vampire escapes; they’ll build a new nest and start looking for revenge. Sam figures this one is from quite recently, probably back from that case with Jody and Alex.

O crap, he needs to call Jody, too. Better get to it before they leave, because the longer he postpones it, the angrier she’ll get for not telling him right away. And Sam really doesn’t want to have an angry Jody Mills going after him.

Getting into clothing worthy enough to go outside with takes a little longer than expected, but eventually he comes to wait in the main room. Lauren’s already set to go, but Dean still needs to show himself.

“Come on, Dean!” Lauren calls out after ten more minutes, and right after that, Dean shows up in his old clothes again, looking a little annoyed when both Lauren and Sam put a hand above their mouth to hold back a laugh.

“I don’t have chick-clothes, okay?” Dean explains in annoyance, holding his arms up in the air for a split second, which is already enough to have his pants fall off. Lauren shoots a small look towards Sam and nods in Dean’s direction.

“Better go shopping with him soon,” she says. Then she goes towards the hallway that leads to the garage, and the two brothers follow her. Dean stumbles over the pipes of his pants more often than not, and when he finally reaches the car he accidentally bumps against Sam.

“What are you doing?” He asks his brother in confusion, and Sam shrugs lightly, holding up the key.

“Driving?” he asks, because what else should he do? He’s been driving this car for the past three months, so it’s more a force of habit other than anything else.

“Dude, you have an arm stuck in a sling. You’re not getting to drive my baby anymore,” Dean warns him, snatching the keys out of his hands. Sam just sighs. He shouldn’t complain; at least his brother is back. So Sam goes towards the passenger seat, but only to find that Lauren’s already sitting there. The grins up at him, and when he throws his brother a pleading look, Dean just shrugs.

“Hey, you stood her up, least you can do is offer your seat,” Dean tells him dryly, but it’s quickly followed with a boyish snort. Grumpily, Sam goes to sit down in the backseat. He finds that Lauren hasn’t pushed the seat forward again, but he doesn’t dare to ask her to do it, instead sitting down crampily behind her with barely any place to move. Dean seems to enjoy this too much.

“Jerk,” Sam tells him. Dean grins.

“Bitch,” he returns. And then he turns towards Lauren with that same grin. “I really think you two are going to get married one day,” he tells her. Lauren huffs disbelievingly, and Sam just rolls his eyes.

“Slut,” she calls Dean. Dean’s smile just gets wider.

“Whore,” she tells her back. And it’s then that Sam realizes that they’re doing _their_ thing. The name-calling has always been something between him and Dean, but now his brother is doing it with Lauren, too. An uneasy feeling passes through him, but he refuses to call it jealousy.

Ten minutes into the drive Dean stops right next to a local clothing shop to get some clothing that don’t look like he’s lost three times his current weight. It doesn’t take long, though, and after fifteen minutes already he comes back out, wearing new clothes and cheap shoes. In his hand he has another bag, probably filled with more clothing for the future. Dean drops them into the trunk before taking place behind the wheel again.

The rest of the drive is filled with both Dean and Lauren singing along loudly with Dean’s ridiculous music tapes. Who knew Lauren would have the same taste Dean does? Sam just turns his head towards the road to watch the environment.

“What the hell?” Lauren then asks, causing Sam to check what they’re seeing.

The first thing he notices are thick clouds of smoke. And after that, the burning building comes to view completely, surrounded by firemen trying to put the flames down.

“My house!” Lauren calls out, already getting out of the car before Dean even manages to park it. Sam follows her, too. The woman is shouting at the firemen when he catches up with her, and with a hand on her shoulder he tries to pull her away from them.

“Lauren, let them do their job,” he tells her, but Lauren pulls free from his grasp.

“No! All of my files were in there, all the preparations for my case! They’re all gone!” she shouts back at him. Now Dean joins them as well, and he grabs Lauren by her arms to get her attention.

“It’s too late, Lau,” Dean tells her slowly. Sam goes to look back to the flames. They’re literally all over the place, meaning that these vampires intended to leave nothing standing. Behind him he hears Lauren cry out against Dean’s shoulder. There’s nothing more they can do here. Lauren shouldn’t even be alone anymore as long as they don’t finish off those vampires.

When he stares back at his brother, Dean nods as well, obviously thinking the same thing. They turn back towards the car, helping Lauren into the backseat where she’s just staring ahead of her. Dean and Sam wait before getting back inside to discuss this further.

“She should stay with us,” Sam starts, and luckily Dean agrees right away.

“We also need to check up on the law firm, though,” Dean adds worriedly. “They might strike there too, since that’s the second place she’s been to the most.” He has a strong point there, but Sam would rather have Lauren back at the bunker where she’s safe. Still, he agrees to it, getting himself in the passenger seat. The moment Dean starts driving, Sam turns around to face Lauren.

“Are you alright?” he asks her, and Lauren just nods without even focusing on him. Then she turns her head away to stare out of the window. Sam just sighs – she’s probably in shock. Her only home has been burned to the ground, and now she’s being chased by a group of vampires. Her life must be crumbling down in less than two days.

Dean gets out of the car right after parking the car, and when Sam wants to stand up as well, Dean stops him.

“We can’t leave her alone out here,” Dean tells him. After that he runs to the trunk to take out a large knife, and he walks inside. Sam doesn’t like it that his brother is in there alone, but Dean’s right; they can’t leave Lauren alone with no-one to protect her.

Sam realizes he should probably speak to her, but there’s nothing that comes to mind. What is there possibly left to say? It’s not like their friendship had the best start or anything. So instead Sam takes up his cellphone to send a message to Kevin, asking if Cas has woken up yet. A few minutes later he receives a negative answers. Sam shakes his head in annoyance. Of course Castiel couldn’t wait until they summoned Gabriel again to restore Dean’s memories. Impatient Angel…

“Why are they after me?” Lauren suddenly asks behind him. Sam turns back around in his chair and finds her looking at him. She doesn’t look like she’s about to cry, but her face looks furious. Sam takes a deep breath before starting to talk.

“Vampires hold grudges. If you kill their partners, they’ll come after yours as some sort of revenge. Your friend from yesterday must have had a lover or something,” he clarifies. Lauren shakes her head so lightly Sam barely sees it.

“I’m not anybody’s partner,” she tells him. Sam has to look away from her deep brown eyes because they look so angry at even the insinuation that she might have a romantic bond with any of them.

“That doesn’t really matter to them; your friends with Dean, that’s about enough,” Sam tells her. Lauren then nods, turning her head suddenly when Dean’s figure appears back from the building. His new clothes are bloodied, and so is the blade he’s holding. Sam breathes out in relief, but Lauren seems sad.

Dean takes a moment to get back into the car, hiding the knife from other people’s view. With hasty steps he gets back into the car, breathing out loudly the moment he sits down. He doesn’t speak, though, only shaking his head when Sam throws him a questioning look.

“What does that even mean, Dean?” Sam asks, for once unable to translate his message. Dean takes another intake of breath and lets his eyes go to Lauren for a split second. The woman understands enough, though.

“They killed them, right?” she asks. Dean just looks at her in an apologizing way.

“No, they turned them,” Dean reveals sadly. Then more silence before Lauren continues.

“So?” she asks, though Sam is sure she knows the answer to that question.

“So I had to kill them.”

 

* * *

 

 

_Men of Letters HQ  
A few hours later_

When Castiel wakes up, he’s completely disoriented, which isn’t an uncommon feeling that appears whenever he awakens from his sleep. He opens his eyes without remembering even closing them, and like always he’s taken aback at how many hours have passed without him knowing.

Something’s different this time, though. Castiel can feel it in the mattress, as if there’s a movement happening that he doesn’t initiate. With his hand he reaches out to Dean’s usual empty spot, only to find someone lying there, and it’s then that he remembers what happened the day before.

“Dean?” he groans out without even opening his eyes. His whole body is aching – has he been sleeping in the same position all night long? It certainly feels so.

A feminine groan comes from where the other body lies, and it makes alarm bells ring in Castiel’s head. Right away he’s sitting upright, inspecting the woman lying in his bed, in Dean’s spot.

She has short hair and a sharp face, Castiel notices, and he tries to get a look into her soul, but finds that his powers are still weak after using them recently. To recover Dean’s memories.

Oh…

“Cas, you’re awake!” Dean suddenly calls out, but his voice doesn’t sound like the original Dean. Castiel knows it’s him – he saw his soul inside this woman’s body yesterday – but it’s just not really the same. Still, though… it’s Dean. So it doesn’t really matter what he looks like now, because all Castiel wants to do is to hold him in his arms and never let go of him again, which is exactly what he does.

Dean makes a surprised sound when he’s pulled into the tight hug, and his small hands rest lightly on his shoulder. He chuckles lightly when Castiel starts pressing kisses into his neck, but the Angel just wants to be so close of him again.

“Oh, my love,” Castiel whispers out against his skin, and he can feel Dean shiver in his arms. Those hands on his shoulders now move to his chest to gently push him back so they can look at each other. Castiel takes this moment to inspect Dean’s new face more closely. He lifts up his hand, and with his fingers he slowly ghosts over her skin, travelling from her chin to her forehead. The nose is the same, though it might be a little smaller to match the thinner face. His jaws are less sharp and more rounded, and even his chin is changed so it fits the rest.

Dean’s lips are the same, though, and so are the freckles on his skin, and his strong green eyes. Even if the colors weren’t the same, Castiel would recognize the way looks at him in any other appearance he might have. This is the Dean he loves, no matter what he looks like. So he leans forward to kiss him softly on the lips, hands now gripping his face tightly.

“Hmm-Cas,” Dean mutters in between the kisses Castiel offers him, but he doesn’t form a complete word at all. So Castiel pulls Dean closer to him, and leads him down on the mattress, making them lie across from each other. Their lips never leave the whole time.

When Dean’s hands copy Castiel’s, the Angel finally starts crying. This time, it’s not of sadness; he’s shed enough tears for that since his beloved disappeared. No, now he’s overwhelmed by the affection happening here. Even in just one small touch from Dean’s hands on his cheeks makes him drown in the love he knows Dean has for him. And he doesn’t need to say the words for Cas to know it. He’s known it all the time.

“Cas, babe, please,” Dean suddenly breathes out while pulling his face back. Castiel immediately mourns the loss of his lips, and reaches back for them only to have Dean press his fingers on his mouth. Then, Cas holds on to Dean’s hand to softly press kisses across his fingers.

“Please, Cas, stop,” Dean suddenly whimpers quietly, and Castiel immediately lets go of his hands. He pulls back completely, but doesn’t stand up. His eyes never leaves Deans, though the hunter doesn’t seem able to look him in the eye.

“What’s wrong, my love?” Castiel asks. He always thought that their reunion would have been more… happy. He’d expected Dean demanding to have sex or anything – okay no, he actually hoped Dean would have done that. For two months now he’s been imagining this day. He had been looking forward to a lot of kissing, hugging, and maybe even a love confession.

Instead there’s Dean already pulling back after a short time of kissing.

“Nothing, Cas, I swear,” Dean tells him then, but Cas can hear that he’s lying. Something obviously is bothering him, and he’s not talking about it. Why does he always do that?

“Dean, don’t shut me out, please,” Castiel begs him while taking his hands in his own again. Dean looks down at them for a moment, face thinking. Then he just shakes his head.

“Not yet,” he finally answers. His eyes looks exhausted, and now Castiel understands this probably isn’t the best time to talk. They’re both tired, and barely even back together. They should just take in this moment with each other before starting on the heavy business again.

“Okay,” Castiel then returns, accepting the attempt of postponing it until the next day. Dean’s lips go up in a slight smile, but it’s subtle. His fingers slowly go over Castiel’s hand, before he looks back up at him.

“Will you hold me?” he asks Castiel, and the Angel is surprised at how vulnerable he sounds. Dean normally isn’t the one to ask for this, but who is Castiel to deny him? If Dean is feeling sad and low, Castiel shouldn’t question it, but help him. So he nods and opens up his arms, allowing for Dean to press up against him.

Dean turns around then before coming to lie against Cas, letting his back press against Castiel’s chest. He grips Castiel’s arms around his waist tightly, but falls asleep rather quickly. With a small kiss pressed against his hunter’s ear, Castiel decides to go to sleep again as well.

He just wishes he could rejoin his husband in his dreams.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 _Dean Winchester, at last_.

The words sound like they’re coming from everywhere. Dean makes a full turn, finding nothing in the landscape he’s dreaming for himself. There’s a dream-version of Cas sitting on the ground, sitting on that same blanket with that same picnic basket like he’s had in a dream years ago. Back then it had been Lisa sitting there, and it had been dark. Now there’s light, and mountains. This is a memory, from when they were in Switzerland, Dean remembers.

“I love you so much, Dean,” Castiel says from where he’s seated. Back then, Dean had been sitting next to him, and they had kissed for what felt like hours, practically making out on that tiny blanket. They would have gotten further, but then a wild goat appeared, snuffing inside the basket to try and steal some food. They let it, even feeding him from the hand when it seemed unafraid.

“It’s a lovely dream,” that voice says, now appearing from behind him. Dean turns around quickly, finding a young woman standing there with her hands behind her back. She’s wearing a flannel shirt with underneath a black top, and her pants are green. She looks like the typical teenager, actually.

“Gabriel?” he asks carefully. The girl smiles, then. Without answering, though, she starts walking forward to look at the Cas Dean is dreaming for himself. She reaches out for the Angel sitting on the ground, but then Dean decides to make him disappear. Gabriel has no business with Castiel at this moment.

“Hey,” Gabriel calls out in fake anger. The smirk on her face betrays her, though. She closes her hands again, and then starts walking back to Dean. “Fine, you want to get to the talking right way. I can go for that.”

“Why did you do it?” Dean asks bitterly. Gabriel raises her eyebrows in question.

“I’ve done many things, Deano. What is it you’re referring to?” she asks in a low voice. Dean nods because the Archangel is right. Gabriel has done a lot of things in the past, and even now there are multiple reasons why Dean feels angry towards her. He just tries to find the thing that bothers him the most.

“Why’d you block his Grace?” he asks, thinking back of his Angel’s unconscious body, lying lifelessly on the bed. And the way he seemed to be craving touch so much when they woke up again. Or the fact that, apparently, he’s been crying a lot in the past two months, while in fact he’s never shed a tear in his life before. Those things are unacceptable to Dean. Cas shouldn’t be miserable. He doesn’t deserve it, and even knowing how sad and broken he has been the last two months makes Dean want to puke.

“Ah, you’re going to be the noble husband… err, wife.” Gabriel smirks at him, but Dean doesn’t see any reason to smile. He doesn’t identify himself as a woman, no matter what body he’s in. He’s still Castiel’s husband, because no matter how hard they’ll try, they’re going to do _anything_ to get Dean back the way he is. (And after that he can resume playing matchmaker between Sam and Lauren, because seriously, who _hasn’t_ seen the chemistry between the two?)

“ _Why_?” Dean urges on. Gabriel holds her hands up in the air in defeat.

“Ho, ho, no rushing, Mrs. Doubtfire,” she says, and Dean rolls his eyes at the reference from that movie. Typical of Gabriel to bring something like that up. “Fine, if you really want to know, there are some things going to happen to you in the next few months.”

“What things?” Dean asks. Gabriel shakes his head.

“I won’t tell you that, otherwise you’ll be trying to prevent it _again_ and I’ll need to interfere, which you won’t want, I can promise you that.”

Dean feels at least a little bit of intimidation there. Whatever Gabriel’s planning, it’s obviously big. He’s really not looking forward at being Heaven’s bitch again, but Sam already told him this is out of Heaven’s hands. This is God _personally_ trying to fix the things he and Castiel changed.

“I blocked Castiel’s grace because he would have been able to undo it. I can’t have that, and it’ll only piss off Daddy even more so.” Gabriel takes out a little wrapped candy and starts opening it. Dean watches her hands work as she turns it around.

“Yeah, well I don’t care what your _Daddy_ thinks about it,” Dean throws back angrily. “He wasn’t there during the Apocalypse, and neither back when Cas tried to take his place. Had he been a good father from the start, there wouldn’t even have _been_ Prophecy’s to secure Heaven’s peace or whatever!”

“Don’t think I didn’t try and tell him that, too,” Gabriel mutters back quietly.

“Then why are you still doing his dirty work?!” Dean finally shouts. Gabriel looks up at him again, and Dean feels a little smug for managing to startle an Archangel.

“Because he’s done bad things in the past – we all have. But now he’s trying to fix things again,” Gabriel answers calmly. “You two should know, you’ve done multiple bad things before, too. And as soon as you realized it wasn’t the right thing to do, you stopped and tried to fix it. This is exactly the same.”

“No, this is _not_ the same,” Dean returns while feeling his face redden. “We don’t have the whole world in our own two hands. We don’t have the _obligation_ to watch over the Earth and save it over and over.”

“Yet you do it all the time.” Gabriel sounds way too calm. “You saved the world from the Apocalypse because you two _chucklefaces_ managed to start it in the first place. He’s just trying to do the same thing here now.”

Dean shakes his head and looks away. This discussion is pointless and time-wasting. He turns his back towards the Archangel and rubs his face while he thinks.

“Weren’t you angry at him, too?” Dean then asks, knowing full well how bitter Gabriel was back then. “How come you’re defending him now all of a sudden?”

“You really need to ask?” Gabriel asks, and when Dean turns back to her, he sees she has her shoulders dropped low, and her face is looking sad. “You, who had such a faulty father of your own, _dare_ to even ask how I could defend him? After all that _‘he did the best he could’-_ crap?”

That shuts Dean up, because Gabriel is right. Dean looks back down to his feet, seeing the environment change again into a familiar motel room. Sam is sleeping in his bed, and Dean is supposed to lie there with him. Instead, in the memory, he’s supposed to be tending his father’s wounds.

In the dark, John Winchester is sitting on a chair, crying softly, trying not to wake his other son. Dean remembers how he had gotten out of bed in silence, walking towards his father without speaking a word. A bad decision, Dean knows now. He had put a hand on his father’s shoulder, calling out for him, and in panic, the back of John Winchester’s right hand found Dean’s face, pushing the boy enough so he lost his balance and fell down on the ground, hitting his head against the corner of the table.

Dean also remembers how his father had tried to apologize back then, despite his drunken state. He had said he’s sorry more than a hundred times, and allowed Dean to look at his wounds. After that, John had walked towards the refrigerator, and when Dean had thought he went to take another beer, he had pulled out an ice pack instead to press against Dean’s hurting head.

“This is one of the good scenes, still,” Gabriel says suddenly from next to him. “Your father hurt you in worse ways than this, and not always did he come back with an ice pack in his hands to help you reduce the pain.”

“My father was grieving,” Dean protests, but he can’t help the tears in his eyes. He shouldn’t think back of all those other times before they’ll come and appear before him again. “He lost the love of his life and got sucked into a world filled with monsters. He did the best he could, back then.”

Gabriel’s hand then comes to rest on Dean’s shoulder, and the hunter doesn’t feel like removing it. It’s a strange touch of comfort. He does turn his head towards the Archangel for a moment.

“Who says my father didn’t go through the same thing?” Gabriel asks sadly. Dean’s eyes go wide, then.

“God was in love?” he asks. Gabriel smirks, then, so Dean figures he was wrong.

“Not _in_ love, per se, but things did get hard for him when he had to banish one of his own sons, _after_ having punished Angel after Angel due to said son’s deeds.”

Dean remembers Gadreel and Abner, and who knows how many other Angels that have been forced to get through the wrath of Heaven. Multiple Angels have mentioned that casting Lucifer out had been heartbreaking for him.

“Not only that, but his first creations? The Leviathan?” Dean nods, feeling like growling at the mention of those sons of bitches. “He was so proud of them, but they became destructive, and had this appetite for more and more chaos. So he had to lock them away, too.”

“Gabe,” Dean begins, but he doesn’t know what else there is to say. He’s never going to completely agree with how God works (It’s even weird to think of him as his father-in-law).

“He tried the best he could, Dean,” Gabriel then says. “Just like your father did. And it wasn’t the best thing at the moment – not at all – but eventually they learn from their mistakes and work further on changing it. They reflect on things in the past.”

Dean doesn’t feel like talking anymore. This whole conversation has made him exhausted, which shouldn’t even be possible seeing as he’s dreaming. Actually, this whole day has been a train wreck. Just that look on Lauren’s face when he came back, all bloodied, from her firm was enough. He hasn’t spoken to her since, but either way he wouldn’t know what to say to her.

Dean focuses hard on changing the landscape again, this time thinking of another location during the honeymoon. He quickly finds himself in another dark room. There’s a fan spinning on the ceiling – because it had been extremely hot. He can see himself and Castiel curled together in bed. They’re naked, too, but Dean doesn’t really feel ashamed about that. Surely, Gabriel has seen worse than that.

Dean looks back on how his past self and Cas are lazily kissing. They had just finished making love – yeah, Dean finally dares calling it that, because it’s more than just sex with Cas – and they’re both sweaty and out of breath.

“He loves you a lot, you know that?” Gabriel asks calmly. Dean nods without removing his eyes from the image in front of him. It should be easy, kissing him again like they did back here. But he just can’t. He thought he was able to do it when they were both finally awake, but something kept nagging at him in the back of his mind, and he just couldn’t.

“And you love him too, though you’re afraid that speaking out the words could ruin it all,” Gabriel continues, as if she’s reading his mind. Once again, Dean nods. Because he loves Cas, he really does. And he can make up all possible ways of telling him he does, but speaking the words is just like hitting a brick wall. He can’t get them out, and he feels ashamed for that.

“I never thought I’d feel anything like this for anybody,” Dean says. Sure, he’s loved Cassie, and Lisa, too. But this feels so much more, so more profound. It’s like him and Cas are literally meant to be, no matter how cheesy that sounds.

“I believe you,” Gabriel then suddenly says. Dean looks up at her in surprise, not recalling he’s asked for her to believe him in the first place. But then Gabriel throws him a dark look. “You still have to tell him, though.”

“Tell him what?”

And then the image shifts again, but not by Dean’s doing. He suddenly finds himself back in his bedroom at Lauren’s house. In the bed he sees two women making out naked, and he recognizes one of the two as himself. Without any sound, the room shifts again, subtly. Each time, the women his past self is making out with changes. Sometimes there’s more than just making out. He can often see the image appear where he’s resting with his face in between another woman’s leg. In another one it’s the other way around, and his past self is arching her back from the bed in her pleasure – Dean thinks of himself as her there, because if he were him completely, he would never have done this with those women.

“Gabriel, please,” Dean begs of the Archangel, willing to get out of here. Gabriel refuses, though, still standing there with a hard look on her face. Dean watches how his past self builds her way to the climax, and when she does, she screams out what she always screams out.

Cas.

“You knew, Dean,” Gabriel tells him angrily. “You knew you were married, you even had dreams of him – dreams that were supposed to keep you at bay.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean pleads. He’s not a cheater, he would never hurt Cas like that willingly.

 

 

“I made sure the wedding ring fit, and I tried my best to keep you from sleeping with any more women when I figured it was going too far.” So it was _her_ inside his mind every time he as much as spoke to another woman. Dean should feel angry, tell her that she should have done that before he went and acted out like the slut of Lebanon. But there’s no anger. Just shame.

“And Lauren stood by you, no matter what your choices were, but she didn’t agree with this at all,” Gabriel continues. “She was disappointed every time you took someone home. She tried so hard to make you see that you shouldn’t just give up on your past family, but you just did, like that.”

“It’s a self-defense mechanism,” Dean admits. “You saw what happened when I found Kevin in the mall. I freaked out!”

Gabriel then shakes her head, but she doesn’t comment on it. Everybody knows Dean copes with his problems with drinking and women – and since short smoking, which he had worked so hard on quitting. But now that he’s with Cas, there’s no need of him to cope like that anymore. He’s always kept his drinking at bay, Cas was always there to comfort him in whichever way Dean needs. Except of course with sex. Cas refused to have sex with him if Dean was in a dark mood.

 _Because making love with you should be something beautiful, Dean._ Dean can hear Cas speak right next to him. Finally, Gabriel changes the scenery, taking Dean back to the mountains in Switzerland, where it all started. Cas is once again sitting there with Dean resting his head on his lap. This was before making out, and before the goat came to steal their food. Cas was playing with Dean’s hand, and Dean was staring at his Angel.

 _I might have ruined this_ , Dean realizes. And suddenly he finds he’s unable to breathe. Panic rises inside of him, and he gasps for breath while Gabriel remains standing there, looking uninterested. Dean reaches out for her, begging for her help, but Gabriel shakes her head.

“This is your mess, Dean,” she tells him. “Like our fathers, you need to fix this yourself.”

And then, after she presses her hand on his face, Dean wakes up while gasping for breath. Cas is already awake, calling out his name over and over again. Dean grabs on to his shirt while he tries to get his panic attack under control. Tears roll down on his face, and even now the arms holding on to him tightly don’t seem enough.

“Calm down, my beloved,” Castiel hushes him while softly rocking him. He pulls Dean up so he’s practically sitting in his lap, and then he presses soft kisses on his neck and on his jaws.

All Dean can do is curse at himself for managing once again to ruin the best thing he has. He grabs Castiel’s hand at last when he figures that he can’t hold it off much longer, and then he tries to detach himself from the Angel.

“Cas, I need to tell you something…”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Liked it? Hated it? Feel like chewing me off for ending with such a cliffhanger? Things are unclear? Don't be shy, and let me know. Every comment is appreciated and helps me towards the next chapter.


	15. Pairing himself with my husband, shitty little brat…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean avoids his husband, and Lauren learns how to defend herself in case she would ever get in trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters has a small part from the episode 'paper moon', but is mostly about the episode 'fan fiction'. Forgive me if I added a little bit of my own frustration about the end of this episode in Dean's thoughts. I had been looking forward to get this episode in the story for months, but while I was writing, I had so many sudden frustrations about the episode that I had trouble with it. I'm quite disappointed about how I felt writing this chapter since I had been looking forward to it, but I hope it doesn't show in what you'll read. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy :-)
> 
> Chapter warnings: arguments and talk about infidelity.

It’s a beautiful September afternoon. The sky is only lightly clouded, and the temperature is warm enough to give swimming in the lake a shot. Behind the lake there’s the blurred image of mountain tops, looking like they’re so close to touch, though they are in fact far away.

A speedboat passes by while Dean takes another sip from his beer. There are sunglasses resting on his nose, and he looks relaxed – as much as is possible of course. After Dean lowers his bottle, Sam sighs quietly, wondering when they’ll even start speaking again.

When he sees Dean’s head move slightly toward him, Sam quickly looks away, pretending to watch the lake’s water reflecting the sunlight back.

“Hey, there’s something I needed to ask you,” his brother starts. _Finally_ , Sam thinks. It’s about time that he starts talking about what happened between him and Cas. Sam tries his best to look innocent and uninterested as he opens his mouth.

“Shoot,” he says.

“You’ve been… kicked, bit, stabbed, possessed, killed,” Dean then begins, and Sam tilts his head a little bit in confusion. Okay, so this isn’t really what he’s been expecting. Dean look way too amused about this, too. “And you sprain your friggin’ elbow?”

 

 

Oh, so he’s going to be a jerk about this? Alright then. Sam repositions himself in his chair and turns towards his brother.

“Dude, it’s more than a sprain, alright?” he defends himself. “And it was a freakin’ Archangel, but…” Sam doesn’t get the chance to even finish that sentence. Dean laughs shortly once and leans forward a little, resting his elbows onto his knees.

“What? That sling come with a slice of… crybaby pie on the side?” Dean asks mockingly. Sam could try to guilt-trip him with this, tell him that his whole shoulder got hurt because Gabriel was looking for _him_. But, he figures, Dean’s been through enough. He might as well humor him and go along.

So Sam smiles, and Dean smirks.

“Please,” he breathes out, turning his head away again. Sam eyes his brother silently for a moment. They’re only at the third day since they got him back, but it’s still weird to see Dean in this form. He looks smaller than usually, and though his arms are still muscular enough, he’s a lot skinnier than Sam is used to.

There’s also this silent pain hiding beneath his mask of mocking. Sam had seen it before he put on his sunglasses. Dean’s hurt by something, and he knows it has to do with Cas – mostly because Dean dragged Sam out of his room in the middle of the night, telling him that they were going on a small road trip. _Without the Angel_.

Sam never even believed Dean’s line of ‘ _I just need to spend some time with my baby brother, okay?’_ because they’ve been able to do that perfectly with Cas around in the past. Sure, it sometimes makes Sam feel like a third wheel, but never have the two managed to make Sam completely uncomfortable on purpose…. Without the intention of teasing, of course, because Dean is still a little child sometimes.

“How you doing?” Sam asks when the concern takes the better of him. Normally, Dean would sigh, roll his eyes, whatever. Now, he looks pensive, as if he’s actually thinking his answer through before talking.

“Golden, man,” he then reveals. Sam doesn’t buy it, though.

“Come on,” Sam says, throwing his head back like a dog would do when he begs.

“Seriously, I’m good,” Dean then answers, sounding a little more serious. “I am. You know, we’ve got three more cases of this stuff on ice in the trunk. Taking some ‘we time’… best decision we ever made.”

Normally, Sam would direct his beer bottle towards his brother and let the tops cling together in some sort of toast to celebrate, but not right now. Because, though his brother tries to sound convincible, Sam just doesn’t believe him.

“Okay, Frenchie, what’s up with you?” Dean suddenly asks. Sam realizes that he sounds tired, or maybe just defeated. Can he bring it up now? He’s almost sure his brother will deflect it again.

“It’s just, you’ve been missing for two whole months, and now you’re back you’re not spending it with your husband? You know, the one who’s been heartbroken the moment you disappeared?” Sam asks. He nervously toys with his bottle and eventually decides to just put it down on the ground before he spills it all over his clothes.

“Sam,” Dean starts, but Sam isn’t having any of that.

“No, Dean,” he interrupts his brother. “Not only were you too eager to get out of the bunker, but Cas looked literally devastated when I last saw him.”

“Sam!” Dean snaps, and now Sam shuts his mouth. He’s just afraid that, whatever beautiful thing they had between them two is already broken. They don’t deserve that; they deserve happiness, and long days without having to deal with Prophecy’s and hunting, and freaking Angels banishing others from Heaven.

“Please, Dean,” Sam tries. “He’s my friend, too.”

Now Dean lowers his head and seems to inspect his bottle as well. With his fingers he tries to peel off the paper on it. His breathing speeds up for a few seconds, but then it settles down again. Sam can still catch the frown on his face, though.

“Cas and I… we just need some time apart is all,” Dean then explains with a shivering voice. He sounds so hurt that Sam can’t even believe the two would have made that decision together.

“Why?” Sam asks, because he’s still curious.

“Because there’s a lot to adjust to, okay? I’m suddenly a chick, things don’t work the same way they used to, and I need to get past that before I…” Dean doesn’t finish his sentence, but it doesn’t matter because Sam knows it’s a lie anyway. Still, he decides not to press on it. If Dean doesn’t want to tell, Sam shouldn’t push him into it. So he lets it slide and picks up his bottle again.

“See that thing in the paper this morning?” Dean then suddenly asks. Sam can hear that he’s trying to mask his pain away, but the way his voice is still trembling, Sam doesn’t fall for it. He takes a deep breath before answering.

“Maybe it was an animal kill,” he tries. He doesn’t want Dean to hunt yet. Not now when he doesn’t know if he can take the same hits he used to. Still, Dean doesn’t give up.

“It was three kills, and it was in the same town, all within the last month,” he urges on. Sam decides to go for the delegating type, then.

“Yeah, you right. We should call some guys, have ‘em fix it,” he complies. Dean nods a little too wildly.

“Good, smart,” he says.

“Done.”

Then there’s more silence. Sam is breathing heavily, waiting for Dean to come back with his need to hunt.

“Or…” Dean starts, “we could be in and out. It’s a milk run!” Sam rolls his eyes at his brother.

“Right, because that happens… never,” he says sarcastically. Next to him, Dean takes off his glasses and starts rubbing his eye. Then he turns towards his brother.

“Look, Sam,” he starts, sounding earnest. “What we’re doing here, it’s good, okay? You and me, hanging out. But I also need to work… I need this.”

Damn it, Sam can’t go against Dean’s begging, especially when his eyes seem so bigger on his female face. And is he batting his eyelashes like that on purpose? Sam takes off his sunglasses too to inspect his brother’s face without the darkening shades. 

“If things go sideways,” he starts “I mean, like, an inch, you gotta give me the heads-up.”

“Done!” Dean almost shouts. He slams the glasses back on and starts to get up. “You got my word.” Then he grabs his chair without hesitating and marches back towards the Impala, throwing the thing inside the trunk. Sam watches his brother work and sighs. He just doesn’t know how much he can believe his brother.

He’s sure that, no matter what they’ll do today, Dean will get overconfident and ending up hurt.

 

* * *

 

 

_Durham Washington, King County Sheriff station  
A few hours later_

Another problem about Dean having a new body is the fact that all their costumes need replacing. It’s not like he doesn’t fit in their uniform for Game Wardens, but it’s more like he’s drowning inside his clothes that nobody would really be able to take him seriously.

So it takes a little more time for them to find something decent for Dean to wear _and_ to change his fake ID so the gender and name matches. To say the least, Dean isn’t amused when Sam orders him to stay still so he can take his picture. 

In the end, they finally arrive at the police station, and the ID works when Dean hands it to the Sheriff – Sam simply holds it up for a few seconds before hiding it back in his inner pocket.

“Well, I’m not gonna lie, we’re damn glad to see you,” the Sheriff tells them while handing Dean back his ID. “You two must come up on stuff like this all the time.”

Both Dean and Sam nod. “Oh yeah,” they say at the same time. Then Dean lifts up his hand in an agreeing gesture.

“Yeah, definitely,” he tells the man.

“Hell, seen raccoons in rec rooms and bears in swimming pools. But this? You tell me,” the Sheriff continues. Dean, like always, is unable to shut his mouth and makes another agreeing sound. Then everybody is quiet. The Sheriff looks at the two in expectation, and before Sam can begin Dean starts.

“Oh, well, uh… where do we start?” Dean says, “What with, uh… logging…”

“Ice caps,” Sam adds to it.

“Bitcoin. Yeah,” Dean then concludes. Sam could almost roll his eyes at how terrible his brother suddenly seems to be in this. Even the Sheriff looks at him in suspicion, and now Dean starts to get flustered.

“Obama,” he adds. And then he seems to realize that he said something ridiculous. Sam decides it’s time to jump in before Dean makes an even bigger fool of himself.

“You know what? Maybe you could walk us through the attacks. Any similarities, anything weird.”

“Only thing weird about them was how similar they were,” the Sheriff says, still standing behind his desk. “Folks torn clean through. Hearts… absent…”

“Absent as in-?”

“Consumed, most likely,” the Sheriff finishes Dean’s sentence.

“And there were no witnesses?” Dean then asks when Sam keeps quiet.

“Well, the town square attack, the parking lot… those were real late. But the bar? Hell, with how jammed the place was, you’d think somebody other than Tommy would’ve seen something.”

So there was a witness. That’s something they can go on with.

“And what did he see?” Dean asks.

The Sheriff shakes his head. “Honestly, not much,” he says sadly. “Now, Tommy ain’t exactly what we call a reliable witness. And he’s telling anybody who’ll listen he saw some girl go back out with Barker, and she got torn up, too.”

“So there was a second victim?” Dean raises his eyebrows while asking.

“Well, sure. Except Tommy’s a drunk. There’s no body, no D.N.A., no blood trail, no nothing to suggest that.”

From behind the Sheriff, a deputy walks up and offers the man some papers. Sam can’t help but glance a look at it, but there’s nothing to be seen since it’s so small. The Sheriff excuses himself, and the two nod at them. When he walks away,

 

* * *

 

 

_Men of Letters HQ, Lebanon, Kansas_

_“So… this is it then?”_

The conversation doesn’t seem to get out of the Angel’s head, and _every time_ the ache in his chest gets stronger.

_“So… this is it then?”_

He knows that those aren’t the only words that were said by Dean, but somehow it looks like they’re the only ones that seem to matter here. As if he would just give up like that, without even waiting for Castiel’s reaction.

He loves Dean with all he is, and even more so. And he would do _anything_ to be with Dean. But now, he just needs the space, the time to get through this.

_“I didn’t remember you, Cas, I figured I got out of a bad marriage and lost the memories while running away.”_

He has to stop the tears. He doesn’t cry; he’s an Angel. Angels don’t shed tears for _any_ reason. He’s a powerful creature, older than anybody could think, and the things he’s seen have to make this simple matter so insignificant. Castiel shouldn’t care all that much; he never did every time he had to wipe out another city in command of his father.

_“You shouldn’t worry about me running off with some other girl. I might have many faults, but being unfaithful isn’t one of them.”_

It hurts more when Castiel remembers him saying this. They had made love for the first time back then, and Castiel had done nothing else other than believe him, because he was actually sincere about this. That’s what makes it so much harder now, because apparently even the vague memories of himself weren’t enough to stop Dean. The times he managed to reach out for Dean in his dreams despite having his Grace blocked, he tried to send him a message, to tell him how much he loves him. And apparently it has fallen onto deaf ears.

“ _Cas, please, I really didn’t mean to let this happen.”_

_“But that doesn’t make this any less painful, Dean.”_

_“I know, babe. I’m so sorry.”_

_“I know.”_

_“Why won’t you let me touch you?”_

_“Because I can’t… Because it hurts too much.”_

_“So… this is it, then?”_

_“Did you seriously just ask that?”_

_“I- uh, yeah…”_

_“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint, Dean, but unlike most married couples right now, I take my wedding vows seriously.”_

_“I didn’t mean-…”_

_“Just… go, Dean. Leave me alone right now.”_

_“Cas…”_

_“All I can think of are those girls touching you whenever I look at you. I don’t need that right now, so just get out of here.”_

_“Cas, baby please.”_

_“ **Dean, go!** ”_

He can’t help it; the tears stream down from his face anyway, no matter how hard he tries to stop them. He wraps his arms around his own chest to add some pressure. He knows that helps a person to calm down. Dean had left after he shouted at him, and Cas hasn’t seen him ever since. He isn’t even sure if he’s still in the building. Castiel doesn’t want to risk seeing him while checking it out, so he just stays in bed.

A loud sob escapes his mouth, and he curses internally for being so weak. It has to stop now; he needs to eat, despite the lack of hunger. And then he needs to take a shower, and after that, he should try to find something to keep his mind busy. So, though against his will, he finally gets up. He better takes a shower first before getting something to eat. He can feel how empty his stomach is, but the idea of eating already makes him nauseous. A shower could refresh him for a little bit.

In the two months that he’s been human, Castiel has lost a lot of weight, mostly because of the fact that he keeps on forgetting to eat. The only times he does, it’s thanks to Sam pushing something on front of him. One time he almost fainted from dehydration, too. Sam had given him hell back then, telling him not to neglect his body like this.

Right now, all Castiel wants is to abandon Jimmy’s vessel for a moment and go recover a little bit on Heaven. If only he could.

The shower does nothing to relieve his tension, and his eyes are still red when he finally faces himself in the mirror. All he sees is a terrible excuse for an Angel. There was once a time where he was strong and mighty. In charge of his own garrison, respected by other Angels and a well-known soldier that has won countless battles.

Now he’s the Angel that couldn’t even follow the order to keep Dean Winchester away from his brother. For the first time, he curses the fact that he was so weak to even develop feelings. Having no feelings is better than having to feel this pain and disappointment for a long period of time.

He should find something to get his anger out with. There’s a shooting range in these quarters, and he could practice on his aiming anyway. At least that way he works on being a better human for the time being.

He takes the minimal amount of breakfast; just a cup of coffee and two slices of bread. It’s simple, and won’t take long to eat, so he doesn’t stay in the kitchen. He knows Kevin watches him when he walks out. Right now, he doesn’t really care.

“Where’s you going?” the Prophet asks. Castiel decides not to be too much of a jerk.

“Shooting practice,” he mutters back loud enough so the boy can hear him. Then he walks out towards the hallway. It takes a moment for him to remember where the room is, but eventually, after five minutes, he stands in front of the door.

When he gets inside he finds the whole armory stacked against a wall. There are a few guns and knives missing because the brothers took them on their hunt. Castiel decides to go with what he has. He takes a small gun – no idea what kind of gun it is. Not that he cares either way.

Just when he wants to move towards the courses, he sees the part of the wall that has all the knives. Castiel sees a stolen Angel blade hanging there, but it’s the small knives that catch his attention. He’s learned to throw small ones like these back when he was trained in Heaven. It’s been a while, but he wonders if he’s still able. So he picks ten of them before finally moving forward.

He drops the gun down on the table immediately and starts inspecting the knives first. They’re light enough, but still heavier than the blades from Heaven. That means that he has to adjust his throw. He lifts one up in the air behind his head to check how it feels.

 _I can work with this_ , he thinks, and then he doesn’t think but just throws. Normally, if he were still an Angel, he would have seen the knife spin in the air before hitting the target. Now he can’t catch that anymore. He throws, and before he’s really aware of it there’s the sound of metal cutting through the target.

“Whoa, perfect hit,” the voice of Lauren Porter says from behind him, and Castiel turns around to face the woman. He has never really spoken to her in person, but so far he never really got occasion for that, anyway.

“It is required for every Angel to be trained in the arts of targeting,” Castiel explains. He then readies his arm to throw the next knife, missing the previous one with only a millimeter. Next to him he can hear the woman approach. The heels of her shoes echo all over the room, bringing Castiel out of his concentration. He lowers his arms to prevent anybody getting hurt.

“How old were you when they started training you?” she asks. From the corner of his eyes he can see her cross her arms again while she leans against the table. It’s the first time anybody has even bothered to ask him that.

“A couple of thousand years old. Right after we hit the age that we weren’t considered fledglings anymore, at least,” he answers. It’s difficult to put a number on it since time moves so differently in Heaven. What could be one day upstairs is almost a week on Earth.

“Fledglings? So Angels _can_ procreate?”

Castiel shakes his head and lifts up his arm again, throwing the next knife with such a force that it slams the other two off the target. Lauren makes a whistling sound that Castiel recognizes as a sign of impression. Despite his anger and hurt, he can’t help the smirk that appears on his face.

“Angels can’t procreate since we’re in fact genderless,” Castiel explains. “An Angel in a woman’s vessel wouldn’t be able to carry a child, no matter if the father were human or another Angel.”

He makes his way to pick up the other knife. When he can’t reach it, he looks down to find Lauren holding it in her hand. She nods towards the target in a suggestive way, and Castiel shrugs, allowing her the space to get a good stance.

“And male vessels?” she asks as she tries to find a good position. Castiel comes to stand behind her, tiring of her sloppiness. He puts his hands on her shoulder to get them to relax. Lauren complies right away, shaking them loose for a moment. Then she tries again, lifting her arm too high. Once again, Castiel interferes, pushing her wrist down.

“Male vessels could in fact impregnate female humans, thus creating a Nephilim, which is considered an abomination in the eyes of my kind,” he says quietly. When he’s happy with Lauren’s stance, he lets go of her, and encourages her to throw it at last. She does, making a grunting sound in the process.

The knife doesn’t go as fast as Castiel’s, but it still hits the target right where it matters. It’s far from the middle, but at least it’s inside. Lauren makes a triumphant noise and holds up her hand towards Castiel, pointing the palm to him.

“What am I supposed to do?” he asks in confusion. He doesn’t like the way Lauren’s eyes roll at him, but he decides not to comment on it.

“You slap my hand, great teacher,” she calls out enthusiastically. When Castiel still doesn’t get what’s expected of him, the woman rolls her eyes and takes his hand in her own, holding it with the palm up and his fingers outstretched.

“Now hold it like that,” she instructs him, before slapping her own palm against his. After it’s over, Castiel quizzically looks at his hand in an attempt to figure out what she’s done to him.

“What’s the purpose of that?” he asks after finding nothing, except that the skin is reddening a little bit. It tingles a little bit as well, but it’s not unbearable.

“It’s a high five, cutie,” she reveals, smiling all the way. Despite that, Castiel can still see a sad look in her eyes. “You do it when something good happens during teamwork or anything like that.”

Castiel nods, then. He wiggles his fingers to get the tingling feeling out of them. Human customs are still so foreign to him despite his years with the Winchesters. It makes him even more aware that he’s not like them; that he’s still different. An alien, so to say. The fact that something simple as a high five hasn’t even been taught to him yet gives him a bad feeling in his stomach. He just wishes he learned this new thing from Dean.

He fights back another wave of sadness by turning back towards the target, and this time picking up the gun instead. He points it forward, and without hesitating, he shoots one time, two times, three times. He surrounds the one knife stuck in the middle of the round plate, but can’t hit it close enough. Throwing knives might be easy for him, but handling a gun can still be perfected.

“If I can give you some advice? If you aren’t used to shooting guns, better try holding it with two hands so you can keep it steady.” Now Lauren comes to stand behind him, and takes hold of his arms. She lifts up his left one to get it to join the other, and when he puts his hand on the hold as well, she lets go.

“Now focus for a moment. Don’t think of the gun as a device, but more as a part of yourself. Try to _feel_ where you’re aiming it at.”

“Like the knives,” Castiel blurts out, but Lauren nods. Then she takes a step backwards to let Castiel find a good stance. He takes a deep breath, and then shoots, still not hitting the center of the target, but getting closer to it. A small smile forms on his own lips now, and for a moment, he forgets about the pain he feels inside.

“Thank you, Lauren,” he tells her, and the woman shrugs. She keeps her head down as if she’s afraid to look him in the eyes suddenly.

“Eh, my father took me shooting a few times. Drove my mum nuts,” she explains. Castiel stares her down for a moment in an attempt to check out her soul, trying to find if he can still see it. When he does, it’s faint and barely noticeable, but it’s still there. And it’s familiar.

“You were at the hospital, weren’t you? You brought me food?” he then remembers. Lauren looks up in surprise, and after squinting, her eyes widen as well.

“I’ll be damned,” she mutters out. They’re probably both imagining how things would have been different if he’d seen Dean’s soul back then. He remembers how the doctor had been standing in front of him, blocking Castiel’s view on his soul. But just the idea that, had the doctor been slightly more on the left, he would have found Dean right away.

And he wouldn’t have to feel so betrayed then.

“How many women were there?” Castiel suddenly finds himself asking. He couldn’t get the question out with Dean, but he still finds that he needs to know. How many women has his husband slept with during his time away?

“You sure you want to know that?” Lauren asks carefully. Castiel nods, still. He ignores the fast beating of his heart, and that strange pressure that seems to build up inside his head. His heart is telling him not to ask this, to spare himself from the pain he’s about to feel. But right now, there doesn’t seem to be a connection between his heart and his brain.

“Please, I need to know,” he begs of her. He knows Lauren isn’t convinced at all. She’s still hesitating, shifting on her feet in search of a way out of this conversation. Eventually, she speaks up anyway.

“Nine,” she tells him. Castiel bites his lips and wills his eyes not to tear up. He can get through this, he’s strong. At least, that’s what his brain tells him. Inside his chest he feels that stabbing pain in his heart that makes him rather have it cut out of his body. His husband, the love of his life, has slept with nine women in the two months that he’s been gone.

He realizes the first tear has come out when it’s already rolling off his cheek. Lauren looks at him sadly, and before he knows it, he’s wrapped in her arms, into a tight embrace.

“I’m sorry, Castiel,” she tells him. Castiel knows she’s trying to comfort him, but it won’t do any good in this case. He needs to remind himself that Dean didn’t purposely cheat on him. He didn’t know, he didn’t know, _he didn’t know_.

“I’ll be alright, eventually,” he tells her. Lauren nods against his shoulder.

“He loves you, you know,” she tells him then, making Castiel’s heart jump a little faster. Did Dean tell her that? Has he told her before he told him? “Maybe he hasn’t been able to say it in the words you want to hear, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”

Castiel pulls back then, trying to take a good look at the woman holding him. She looks earnest enough, he thinks. She doesn’t seem to be lying, either.

“He wouldn’t purposely cheat on me,” he reminds himself out loud. Lauren nods then, too.

“He wouldn’t have cheated on you had he known,” she agrees. She’s good company, Castiel thinks. She’s comforting, and extremely wise. Castiel can feel himself being much calmer than he’d been when he woken up. Lauren is an understanding person with a bright soul, and he’s glad she was here to talk to him.

“I’m sorry that you got dragged into this life,” he then tells her. The woman shrugs, then, trying to wave it off.

“Ah, well… after those vamps are gone, I guess I’ll have the chance to rebuild my life again.” Castiel nods, hoping that she’ll get the chance indeed. Then he turns his head, looking at the knives and the gun on the table. She’s hunted now, but even if they get rid of the vampire’s nest she’ll be at risk.

“I can teach you how to protect yourself,” he tells her before really realizing what he’s saying. Did he just really suggest to train her in to the hunter-world? Dean will probably kill him for this.

“I would love that,” Lauren responds to his surprise. Forget Dean for now, there’s nothing wrong in preparing this young woman for the dangers in the world. Hand on hand-combat; that could be the first thing he could teach her.

“Let’s get started, then.”

 

* * *

 

 

_Meanwhile_

Dean’s been driving for about an hour now. It had been hilarious how Sam had protested in being put in the back. Dean doesn’t even really know why he forced his brother in the backseat. Probably to keep a better eye on Kate, he figures.

“Kate?” Sam calls out from behind. Dean glances a short look at the werewolf next to him, finding her fast asleep. She looks sad even while unconscious. For a moment, Dean feels guilty about lying to her for having a cure. That feeling disappears quickly enough, though. She and her sister are still monsters. He kills monsters. That’s that.

“She’s out,” he mutters out. From his seat, Sam nods. Dean catches it in the mirror. He also sees how scared the guy suddenly looks, which only means one thing.

_More talking…_

“Okay, I uh… I got to tell you something… about Cas…”

Here it comes. He’s going to get a big speech about giving up on something great or some shit like that. Dean barely manages to keep himself from rolling his eyes.

“I thought that I would treat him normally if he would ever become human,” Sam says, which isn’t what Dean expected. “And I tried, I really did… but somehow I kept on finding excuses to keep him away, safe in the bunker. I just… I feel kind of guilty about that…”

Dean raises an eyebrow and shoots one short glance in the mirror before returning his gaze on the road. There are no other cars, but a daring animal crossing the street can be found anywhere, and he’d much rather not ruin his car after finally getting it back.

“Cas is an excellent fighter, Sam,” Dean tells him. He’s seen Cas fight off multiple demons and Angels with just his hands. He’s skilled in hand-to-hand combat, and quite impressively so, too.

“Yeah, I know… I was just afraid that, when I found you, I’d have to say that your husband died because I took him to dangerous places.” Sam looks down, then.

“Dangerous places? What have you been doing, Sammy?” Dean slows down the car when he sees a hole in the road. When they pass over it, the whole vehicle bumps up and down, almost waking Kate. She sighs lightly before twisting a little. Her eyes don’t open, at least.

“I’ve been… eh… trying summoning a few guys,” Sam says hesitantly. Dean looks back up at him, trying to find anything that would make that a little clearer. Sam understands, at least. “Other Angels… and Gods.”

“Gods?! Are you crazy, Sam?!” Dean calls out in a whisper. Gods are insane, dangerous, and they don’t really agree with all that summoning-crap. With just a snap of their finger they could obliterate him simply for pissing them off.

“It’s not like the Gods came anyway. We were desperate,” Sam counters angrily. “You were just gone, there was nothing leading us towards you…” He can’t finish his answer. Sam turns his head back towards the window in a snap, pushing his hand against his mouth.

“You didn’t see him, Dean,” he then whispers. “He was so broken. He felt so useless…”

“Yeah, if I’m not wrong you kind of made him feel that way, too.”

Sam looks up again. Kate is still sleeping despite their bickering, which is almost impressive. Dean just wishes they would stop talking about this. It’s behind them, they all made it out alive, despite the body modification Dean is still suffering from.

“I slept with other women,” he suddenly blurts out without thinking about it. The moment it’s out, he regrets it already. Sam has always been the most supportive of his relationship with the Angel, and he’s warned both Dean and Cas multiple times that if one hurts the other in any way, they would get Hell.

But Sam is already feeling bad for himself right now, and Dean can’t have his little brother being like this; so guilty. So his instincts tell him to blurt the one thing out that might make his mistake worse than Sam’s.

As usual, Dean doesn’t get the reaction he’d expected from his brother. Sam isn’t angry, at all. Instead he nods lightly before moving forward to touch his shoulder.

“Dean, you lost your memory,” he tells him, as if that fixes everything. Dean laughs shortly before looking back to his brother.

“I lost my memory? Oh, thanks. I didn’t- I didn’t realize,” he calls back out sarcastically, but still unable to remove the smile from his face. Sam shakes his head and looks down.

“Shut up,” he says while smiling.

It’s time to wake up Kate, anyway.

 

* * *

 

 

_Men of Letters HQ  
eight days later_

Even after the hunt, things are still awkward. Whenever Dean would walk into a room where Cas is, he would literally turn around to go somewhere else. Whenever Castiel entered a room with Dean in it, he would just sit down until Dean had enough and marched out with another lousy excuse like needing to go to the toilet or having this sudden hunger.

It’s safe to say that, in this fight that is going on between the two, Cas is acting like the mature one, while Dean is plainly childish. It’s weird, too, since Cas is the one that got hurt here

At least, Sam thinks, they’re still sleeping in the same room. It’s not for sure, of course, but he has seen Dean enter the bedroom wile Cas was still in it, and nobody came marching out. That counts for something, right?

The best way to avoid each other, apparently, is by keeping themselves busy all the time. Castiel apparently started training Lauren to defend herself in case another monster comes after her. Sam agrees with this decision, sometimes even joining the Angel during a sparring session for showing the woman examples. When Dean heard, of course, he exploded. It lead to a massive fight between the married couple, ending with both of them shouting at each other until Linda came in between them to shut them up. Dean’s face had been extremely red back then, but Castiel’s wasn’t much better. That night, Dean slept on the couch, and Cas in the bed.

Now, Dean mostly spends his time in the garage to fix up his car a little. It might be true that Sam and Cas hadn’t really been taking care of the Impala in the two months that he’s been missing. They’ve been chewed out about that often enough.

Sam has given himself the daily task to bring his brother food and drinks while he works, otherwise the hunter wouldn’t even think about it and probably starve to death. Okay, maybe not… Dean loves eating too much.

Today, Sam wakes up with the sound of something falling in the garage. He groans annoyance at the sudden sound, and opens his eyes to check his cellphone. Eight in the morning, that isn’t too early. With a massive yawn, Sam gets up from the bed to get some coffee. Surely, he can’t be the only one who is woken up by Dean’s clumsiness.

With two cups of coffee in his hands, Sam gets to the garage, finding his brother busy cleaning up the engine. He’s wearing a grey t-shirt that is now covered in oil, and on the floor, Sam can see a few tools lying on the ground. He must have bumped the box until it fell…

Dean goes to stand up straight again to see his progress, and then closes the cap to move to the trunk. Sam can see that the side-mirrors are missing from the car.

“Hey!” Dean greets him as soon as he sees him standing there. Sam starts to walk forward.

“Hey, how long have you been up?”

“Long enough to find us a case,” Dean says while continuing to wipe his hands. Sam looks down at the trunk and sees that Dean has already opened up the armory. There’s a grin on his face that Sam doesn’t really buy.

“Long enough to… I take it that means you’re feeling back to normal?”

Dean snorts lightly and tilts his head towards his brother. “Yeah, whatever normal is in our world,” he says, and Sam can’t help but agree. Hell, Dean has been _turned into a woman_ , and it isn’t even freaking them out anymore. That must say a lot about them.

“So, eh, right here.” Dean then leans down to grab a newspaper he’s thrown in the trunk. Sam takes it from him when he hands it over. “A teacher in an all-girl’s school went missing in Flint, Michigan. She was heading to her car, disappeared, and nobody’s seen her since.”

Sam quickly reads the article over, but everything Dean says matches up. Which is actually the problem.

“Dean, there’s nothing here that even remotely suggests there’s a case,” Sam tells him carefully. Dean eyes the newspaper intensely.

“There’s nothing that even remotely suggests there _isn’t_ a case. Boom!”

“Come on, man,” Sam calls out, throwing the newspaper back in the trunk. This surely is another one of his attempts to avoid Cas again. He’s probably been fishing for cases to get the first opportunity to get the hell out of here.

“Sam!” Dean returns. “Out there, hunting. It’s the only normal I know.”

For a few seconds, the two stare at each other to try and convince the other. Eventually, Dean turns away and throws the shotgun he was holding back inside the trunk.

“We got work to do,” he says, meaning that his decision is final. Sam knows he would go without Sam if he refuses to join, but it’s better to just go along. So Sam nods in agreement, though he’s sure there isn’t a case to be found back there.

“If Cas gets to join us,” Sam suggests. He already feels guilty enough leaving the Angel out of harm’s way back when Dean was missing, least he can do is plead for him to join.

“No,” Dean returns angrily.

“Come on, Dean, you two need to get over yourselves. Cas can teach others about how to hunt all he wants, but he at least needs to know how it feels for real.”

Dean stays quiet for a moment, probably thinking it over. When he sighs, Sam knows he’s given up.

“Tell him that he gets his ass down here in thirty, or we’re leaving without him.”

Sam nods wildly before turning back around to leave the room. He only hopes Cas will agree to come along

The Angel is still lying in bed when Sam knocks at his door, and when he opens up, Sam is faced with a half-naked Castiel that looks like he could have gotten more sleep. His hair is all over the place, and his eyes have dark circles around them. For the last week he hasn’t bothered to shave, which really starts to get noticeable by now.

“C’mon, Cas, there’s a hunt,” Sam tells him. He softly pushes Cas back to march into the room, finding, to his biggest surprise, that there’s a mattress from an empty bedroom lying on the floor. So these are their sleeping arrangements for now? For a moment, Sam feels nauseated when he realizes that it’s gotten this far already.

“I’m sure there is, but what are you telling me for?” Castiel asks grumpily. When he makes his way back to the bed, Sam takes him by the arm to stop him.

“Hey, dude, you’re coming with us, okay?”

Castiel looks like he wants to argue against it. He’s already opened his mouth, but one long look into Sam’s eyes seems to change his mind. He relaxes his shoulders again and nods.

“I’ll get dressed, then,” he murmurs. Sam smiles, then, and turns around to give Cas the privacy he needs.

“Be there in thirty minutes, or Dean will leave without you.”

 

* * *

 

 

_Flint, Michigan  
A few hours later_

The drive is extremely awkward and quiet, which almost makes Sam regret asking to bring Cas along. The Angel is sitting in the backseat, looking outside the window during the whole ride, while Dean just lets the music play loudly in a probable attempt to annoy him. Cas doesn’t go for it, luckily, but Sam has had enough of the volume.

He uses his cellphone as an excuse to get the car quiet again, and makes a call to the local police station. The call doesn’t take long, and by the time he hangs up, Dean has already parked the car at the school they were headed to. Dean and Castiel are both already out of the car when he opens his door.

 “So, the last place Ms. Chandler was seen by anyone was in the auditorium. Turns out she’s the drama teacher.”

Dean sighs loudly from where he’s standing, causing Sam and Castiel to look up at him. Slowly they’re moving forward, passing a few students sitting outside, probably making some homework.

“Ugh, theater kids… great,” he mutters.

“What? I was a theater kid,” Sam throws back.

“ _Barely_! You did _Our Town_ , which was cool. But then you did that crappy musical.”

“The- Oklahoma?” Sam asks in surprise. “Hugh Jackman got cast off of Oklahoma.”

“You ran tech, Wolverine,” Dean counters, passing Sam by when he stands still for a few seconds. The younger hunter looks down for a moment.

“Shut up,” he mutters, following his brother inside the building. Once inside, they need a few students showing them the way to Principal Salazar’s office. The woman greets them with a smile. She’s obviously happy to have them here.

After a few discussions about Mrs. Chandler’s probable whereabouts, the woman decides to show them to the auditorium where she’s last been seen.

“If you need anything else, let me know,” she says while holding the door open for them. Dean moves forward before Cas can get in – which, again, childish…

“Great, thanks, Ms. Salazar,” Sam tells the Principal. She only nods at him and watches him go when he follows his brother and brother-in-law inside. He can see Dean looking around, probably cursing at everything that screams _drama_ in there. Castiel just tugs a little on his trench coat – they told him it would get too hot for that, but of course the guy didn’t listen. His hair is still ruffled from the hasty departure that morning.

Suddenly, there’s a voice next to them.

 _“Idjits_!”

The three of them turn their heads toward the figure wearing Bobby’s clothes. Then they turn around, revealing a girl dressed up as him. She continues talking to herself, which Sam recognizes as practicing.

“Ya idjits,” she says, resting her hand on her hip while trying to look disinterested. Then she squirms a little bit on her feet before taking a deep breath. She lifts up her hand and points at nothing. “ _You_ are idjits.”

Castiel stays quiet next to them, but Dean quickly turns towards his brother with a scared expression. Before they can say anything, another girl starts shouting.

“Hey Assbutt!” she calls out. The three then look at the girl dressed in the exact same trench coat as Cas’s, holding a bottle with fake flames inside of it. He doesn’t really know what it stands for, but both Dean and Castiel widen their eyes in some sort of recognition. Then the girl tries again. “Hey! Assbutt!”

Right after that a piano starts playing. It’s like everything is happening at once. On the stage there’s a simple décor that represents a house, and another student wearing clothes Dean would wear stands in the middle.

From the fake door-opening, two other figures walk in. A girl with a blonde wig and a white dress, holding a doll in her arms, and another girl behind her with scruff painted on her face to appear male.

“ _John and Mary, husband and wife. Bringing home a brand new life_ ,” the girl sings. Then she points towards the two with the doll. Sam, for a moment, feels like he can’t breathe. “ _His name is Sammy, I’m big brother Dean.”_

Dean turns to him, looking downright scared. None of them seems to know what exactly is going on. Sam shrugs lightly when he can’t offer his brother an answer.

“ _The perfect family, so it seems.”_

Then the two girls pretending to be – shit – their parents walk away. The girl in the dress walks towards a board with a woman painted on it. He hears Dean inhale loudly at the sight of it.

“ _The Demon’s visits had begun. It believed Sam was the chosen one_.” A black figure comes to stand at the crib. “ _It burned my mother, and it cursed my brother. Leaving us in tears.”_

The girl in the dress lets out a scream while the other girl sings on. In the background, the image goes away, and instead a prop, looking an awful lot like the Impala, gets pushed on it instead.

 _“On the road so far, yeah the road so far! We are in dad’s car_.”

“CUT!”

Another young girl stands up from the front. She’s in a uniform, and there’s a beret on her head. The girls on the stage throw each other an annoyed look for being interrupted. Now that the music has stopped, Sam has an easier time thinking straight again.

“What in the holy…” Dean begins.

“If there is a case… it probably has something to do with all of this,” Sam lets out. His eyes travel all over the place. One part of him is practically screaming from the memories of being in drama himself, but the other one tells him to turn around and run away as fast as he can.

“You think?” Dean bites back. That earns him an angry look from Cas. On the stage, another girl points at them after having noticed them at last. When the girl with the beret runs off the stage to get to them, the girl dressed as Cas watches her go.

“Hi! Oh my gosh… are you guys from the publisher? I’m Marie, the writer slash director. This is Maeve, my stage manager and I was just, uh dir-…”she stammers out while the three of them go to fish out their badges. Sam is the first one to show his, making her stop talking when she sees it. On the stage, the two actresses pretending to be them do exactly the same, and in a reflex Sam grabs Dean’s and Castiel’s arm to stop them.

“I’m special agent Smith. These are my partners, special agent…”

“Smith,” both Dean and Cas say at the exact same moment. Great, no way are they not looking suspicious now.

“Smith,” Sam repeats, waving his hand in a dismissive motion. “No relation.” The two girls stare at them quizzically.

“We’re here to look into the disappearance…” Cas starts, but Dean interrupts loudly.

“There’s no singing in supernatural!” he calls out. Sam has to keep himself from groan in embarrassment. Does he have to do this right now? Castiel frowns up at his husband for stopping him from talking. The two girls throw them confused looks from the exclamation.

“Well… this is Marie’s interpretation,” the shorter girl with the microphone says – didn’t Marie mention her name was Maeve?

“Hah!” Dean breathes. He looks lost for words for a moment. He nods wildly while he thinks. “Well… I mean, if there was singing, you know… And that’s a big _if_! If there was singing, it would be classic rock! Not this Andrew Floyd Webber crap!”

“Andrew Lloyd Webber,” Sam corrects him.

“What?” Dean asks with a pained expression on his face.

“Well, you know, we do sing a cover of Carry On Wayward Son in the second act,” Marie reveals, and Dean nods hard with his mouth fallen open. Sam instead frown upon hearing the name of that song.

“Really?” he asks, earning him an angry look from his brother.

“It’s a classic!” both he and Marie call out in defense. That seems to be enough for Castiel. He sighs loudly while they argue about this.

“Right, anyway,” Castiel says in his typical low voice. Sam sends a silent prayer of thanks towards him for saving his life right now, because he doesn’t want to face the wrath of his brother. Even in this female form he will probably be just as scary as normally.

“We’re here to talk about the disappearance of Ms. Chandler. Is there an chance the two of you saw her before she vanished?”

The two girls nod. Good, this is progress.

“Hum, yeah, she left around, like, what? Nine thirty?” Marie asks, and Maeve nods in agreement.

“Any idea where she should be headed at that time of night?”

“A bar? Or a liquor store? Both?” Maeve answers. Sam raises his eyebrows at that answer.

“Wow, really?”

“She had a nasty divorce last year. Most of the time she’s sipping on her… uh… grown-up juice, or passed out. Usually in that order.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t blame her. I’m gonna need fifty yellow shots and a hose down to get this stink off of me,” Dean mutters out, but loud enough for the girls to understand. The smaller girl, Maeve, looks like she’s at the verge of jumping at Dean, but Sam holds out his hand to stop her.

“Maeve, right? You’re the stage manager?” he asks. The girl nods.

“And I understudy Jody Mills,” she says dryly, earning her another little ‘ _what’_ from Dean. Sam really has to get those two apart before they’ll attack each other right here.

“That’s great! That’s great. Jody Mills, that’s great,” Sam says, throwing his brother a pleading look. Dean just looks back in confusion and horror. “So, how about you give a… behind the scenes tour, while your director shows my partners Mrs. Chandler’s office? Deal?”

The girls nod. Sam nods back with a smile.

“Great, give us a moment, please,” he asks them then. The girls smile at them before turning around to get back towards the stage where the girls are trying to get their props back in order. As soon as they’re out of earshot, Dean lets out a deep breath.

“I’m gonna throw up,” he mutters. Sam catches how the girl, Maeve, turns to throw Dean a nasty look while she walks forward. Sam just shrugs.

“I mean, I gotta say, it’s kind of charming,” Sam admits. Cas nods a little as well. “The production value, and the…” He catches his brother’s horrified expression and stops talking.

“No? No, no, I’m gonna check for EMF. You two look for… cursed objects or something,” he mutters out before making his leave. Then, at the last moment, he turns around again. “No fighting, you two,” he hisses at them. Dean raises an eyebrow, and Castiel just looks away to avoid awkwardness. Those two are idiots.

 

* * *

 

The props are ridiculous, and downright laughable. With every step he takes, Dean feels like he’s getting sick. Next to him, Castiel inspects everything intensely. This silence between them drives him slowly crazy, but he just doesn’t want to be the first one to give in. Cas practically threw him out, so he needs to be the one to apologize for crying out loud.

“How did you get all this stuff?” Dean asks bitterly while taking a plastic rifle from the prop-table. It has a fake recharger, but with just the wrong movement it might break in his hands.

“Some parts homemade, some parts repurposed,” she explains. “All of it, awesome…” She stops when she catches Dean messing with the rifle. She yanks it out of his hands to put it back down.

“Please, don’t,” she asks him. Dean turns to Cas in search for some help, but the Angel stares him down grumpily. The ass even smirks at him being told by a teenager. Asshole.

It’s then that he catches something on the stage. There are the two girls dressed as him and Sam. They’re standing at the fake-Impala, seemingly talking to each other. Standing _way_ too close.

“What are they doing?” he asks Marie then, pointing at the two girls further away. Marie turns to see what he’s talking about, and then she smiles slightly.

“Oh! Uh, they’re rehearsing the B.M. scene,” she tells him, as if that’s the most obvious thing in the world. Just when Castiel is repeating the words, Dean speaks up as well.

“The bowel movement scene?” he asks in confusion. The girl turns to him in horror.

“No! The boy melodrama scene!”

Okay, now she’s lost him completely. Castiel, too, seems confused. He comes to stand next to Dean, but not too close, which, okay, hurts maybe a little.

“You know, the scene where the boys get together, and they’re- they’re driving, or leaning against Baby. Drinking a beer, sharing their feelings.” The girl almost sounds dreamy, Dean thinks. The two actresses are continuing talking to each other, and somehow it seems like they’re getting closer to each other without even moving. “The two of them, alone. But together, bonded. United. The power of the brotherly-.”

“Why are they standing so close together?” Dean interrupts when he can’t stand it anymore. Castiel coughs subtly and Dean throws him a short look in annoyance. Marie’s cheeks seem to flush for a moment, and she smiles again.

“Hum… reasons,” she answers mysteriously, but just one look on her face, is enough for him to understand what she’s implying. Holy shit, if only she knew she’s thinking about the brothers together while his husband is standing right next to him.

“You know they’re brothers, right?” Dean asks in annoyance. He had almost forgotten all about these Sam-slash-Dean-girls who seemed to adore a freaky incestuous relationship between him and his brother. Dean shudders at the thought of being _that_ with Sam. Next to him, Castiel chuckles silently. Dean should have left that asshole back at the bunker.

“Well, duh!” Marie responds laughingly. “But… subtext.”

Subtext _my ass_ , Dean thinks. This needs to stop right here, right now. Turning back towards the two actresses, he starts shouting.

“Why don’t you take a sub-step back, there, ladies!” The girls look up at him in surprise, and when he adds a reassuring nod, the two take a few steps backwards to widen the space between them. _Good_ , Dean thinks.

“The office?” Castiel suddenly asks, reminding Dean again why they are here in the first place. Marie nods a little dumbfounded, but eventually turns back with the intention of leading the way. Castiel wants to follow, but Dean stops him and shrugs the coat off of him.

“That that off,” he mutters at his husband, forgetting about the fact that, just a few minutes ago, he promised himself not to be the first one to speak to the other. It’s just that he’s gotten a few surprised expressions from the teenage girls passing by, which made him remember that there’s another girl dressed exactly as him hopping around here. 

“Dean?” Castiel asks in surprise. Dean doesn’t give any clarification. Despite not receiving an answer, Castiel removes the coat. Dean takes it from him and wraps it around his arm. He’s purposely not thinking about the fact that he’s carrying his husband’s coat around.

Marie turns towards them to see where they’re staying, and finally, Dean moves forward. Castiel follows silently. In the background there are sounds coming out of the boxes. First it’s a woman shouting, then a whooshing noise that sounds like a ghost passing by. Marie rolls her eyes and mutters _‘Maeve_ ’ in silence.

They weren’t lying when they said that Mrs. Chandler would probably be spending her time unconscious in a liquor store. The moment they enter the stink of alcohol creeps inside Dean’s nose, making him crave for another drink again.

On the wall behind her desk there’s a stupid poster hanging with a ridiculous man in fancy clothes holding a skull. Underneath it there’s a small text written, saying ‘ _Theatre is life_ ’. What a joke.

Dean notices a robot head sitting on a pile of papers, but it’s Cas who picks it up in surprise.

“Is this hers?” the Angel asks, confused. He turns the thing around in his hands to inspect it.

“No, that’s a prop for act two, I’ve been looking for that, actually,” Marie says happily. That answer doesn’t seem to satisfy Castiel’s curiosity. Dean can’t help but smile at seeing the sight of his husband, being so taken aback by the things around him.

“There’s no space in Supernatural?” Castiel asks then.

“Well, not canonically, no. But this is transformative fiction,” Marie clarifies. Dean smirks in return. He goes towards Cas to push his arms back down, lowering the robot head back on the desk.

“You mean fan fiction,” he corrects her. He can see that the girl is slowly losing her patience with him. Good, it goes both ways.

“Call it whatever you want, okay? It’s inspired by Carver Edlund’s books. With a few embellishments.”

Dean rolls his eyes. He receives a shove from Castiel in return.

“Well, as you know, Chuck stopped writing after Swan Song. I just- I couldn’t leave it the way that it was! I mean, Dean not hunting anymore, living with Lisa?” Dean winces a little bit at hearing her name. Not because of the memory of her, but because Castiel has to be reminded about it as well. “Sam, somehow back from Hell, but not with Dean?! So, I wrote my own ending.”

“You wrote your own ending?” Dean repeats. “With spaceships?”

“And robots,” Castiel adds to it, pointing at the mask. Dean looks up at the ceiling in exasperation.

“And some ninjas,” Marie continues as well. “And then, Dean becomes a woman.”

Both Castiel and Dean then look at her with a shocked expression. What the-?

“Eh, it’s just for a few scenes!” Marie quickly says to defend herself. Dean shakes his head and lifts up his hands dismissively. He’s seen enough in here, nothing looks out of the ordinary. Castiel even follows him when he starts walking outside, so he probably found nothing either. Marie keeps quiet while they’re walking down the hallway.

“Alright, Shakespeare! You know that I can actually tell you what really happened with the- _the_ Sam and Dean? A friend of mine hooked me up with the, uh, _unpublished_ unpublished books.”

Marie doesn’t say anything, so he takes that as a signal to go on.

“So, Sam came back from Hell, but without a soul.” At that mention, Cas at least has the decency to look down in shame. “Then, Cas brought in a bunch of Leviathans from Purgatory. They lost Bobby. And then, Cas and Dean got stuck in Purgatory, Sam hit a dog. They met a Prophet named Kevin, Sam endured a series of trials with the mission to close the gates of Hell, which he succeeded in. Then Dean went to help Cas to close down the gates of Heaven, but instead they decided ‘ _to Hell with it_ ’ and they got together.”

“Then they got married,” Castiel adds to it gently. The look he gives Dean then makes his heart beat a little faster.

“And then, the only part you got right, Dean got turned into a woman,” Dean finishes. He can’t handle the look Castiel gives him, so he lowers his head to instead fumble with his wedding ring. They’re back in the auditorium again, backstage. A few girls are carrying some stuff around on the stage while Maeve shouts instructions at them.

“Wow,” Marie breathes out.

“Yep,” Dean agrees. It is indeed much. They really deserve some rest, actually…

“That is some of the worst fan fiction that I’ve ever heard!” Marie laughs to Dean’s biggest surprise. This girl is crazy! “I mean, seriously, I don’t know where your friend found this garbage! I’m not saying that ours is a masterpiece or anything, but geez!”

While she talks she points towards the stage, and that’s when Dean sees the actresses playing him and Cas holding on to each other. Which, weird. Him and Cas never hugged until Purgatory – the part she just chewed out as the worst fan fiction ever.

She’s saying something else, but Dean can’t listen to it. He needs to know why fake-him and fake-Cas are hugging.

“What are they doing?” he asks while pointing at the pair. Both Marie and Cas turn to see what he’s talking about. Castiel takes deep breath when he realizes.

“Eh, kids these days call it hugging,” Marie says sarcastically. Dean doesn’t even feel the courage to chew her off for that.

“Is that in the show?”

“Oh, no. Siobhan and Kristen are a couple in real life,” Marie reveals. Okay, that makes much more sense. Dean doesn’t really know why he lets out a relieved breath, but Cas, too, seems happy about that fact. Then, Marie continues. “Although, we do explore the nature of Destiel in act two.”

“Des- what?” Castiel asks. Oh no, this can’t be happening. Dean really hopes it isn’t what he thinks she means.

“It’s just subtext!” Marie quickly adds. “But, then again, you know, you can’t spell subtext without… S-E-X.”

Marie walks off, then, leaving the two of them alone together. Dean feels the urge to scream it out in frustration. It’s not so much the fact that they’re acting out this _subtext_ between him and Cas, or whatever. It’s more that he hates it that they’re making a show out of it. The relationship he shares with Cas is just meant for them two (and of course, the friends and family that they decided to tell). He doesn’t need the whole world to know about it.

“There isn’t any sex in the current text anyway,” Castiel grumbles out bitterly, which is the last straw. Dean turns his back to his husband, having enough of it for now. He needs some fresh air, and a cigarette. He doesn’t give a crap about the fact that he was planning on stopping. This is good enough reason for him to have a smoke, God dammit.

Sam is already waiting at the entrance of the school. In all his frustration, Dean explains all that he’s seen, heard and learned in this last hour, spent with a fangirl almost crazier than Becky. Almost, of course, since Marie doesn’t look like the girl who would drug one of them to get married, he thinks.

Once he’s finished talking, they’re almost at the car. Castiel is slowly trailing behind them, keeping quiet all the time. For a moment, Dean feels sorry for biting him off all the time. The moment he gets by the car, he opens the door of the backseat, and throws the trench coat inside.

“I don’t understand,” Sam suddenly says. Dean shakes his head as well.

“Me neither,” he responds. They weren’t together yet back then. He didn’t even have _those_ kind of feelings for the Angel for crying out loud, so how could they even consider it?

“I mean, shouldn’t it be… Deastiel.”

“Really?” Dean asks. “ _That’s_ your issue with his?” How to _pronounce_ it? What a creep. Sam instead smirks.

“No, of course it’s not my issue,” he says. Then he leans against the car and looks at Castiel for a moment. He has his thinking-face on, which means there’s still something on his mind. “You know… how about Sastiel? Samstiel?”

Did he just-? Did he just pair himself up with his brother’s husband? _Did he really just do that_? And why is Cas chuckling about it?!

“Ok, alright. You know what? You’re gonna do that thing where you just shut the hell up. Forever!” Dean snaps at him. Sam laughs at his reaction. This day is getting crazier by the minute. “Pairing himself with my husband, shitty little brat,” Dean mutters while walking to the door at the driver’s side. He doesn’t open it, but instead takes out that very much needed cigarette. Castiel glares at him when he lights it up, but right now he doesn’t give a single shit about it.

“Look, man. No EMF, no hexbags. None of the props are even remotely hincky. Other than the Charlie Kaufman of it all, I got nothing. You?”

“In Mrs. Chandler’s office there are multiple bottles of alcohol scattered around. My guess would be that she could have drunk herself unconscious that evening, probably even fallen in a river or something,” Castiel says. He opens the door to the backseat again, but doesn’t get in right away.

“So what?” Dean asks. “This all, this whole musical thing, everything. It’s all a coincidence? There is no case?”

Sam shakes his head, then. “Unless you’re seeing something I’m not, no, Dean. There’s no case here.”

Dean nods then, finishing off his cigarette before throwing it on the ground. Okay, then. Probably another one of those times where he looks too much into things and ends up driving all the way for nothing. He opens the driver’s door now as well, but finds his brother looking at him.

“CasDean?” he suddenly asks, and Castiel laughs it out before hiding himself inside the car. Dean feels like exploding.

“Shut your face! Get in the car!” he barks at his brother while pressing his finger on the roof of the Impala. Quickly, Sam goes back inside, but he still throws a small smirk towards Castiel. Dean decides to just ignore it for now. His brother likes to be a tease, that’s nothing new. But the fact that his Angel seems to be enjoying it, well, that’s just a limit, isn’t it.

“Why don’t you get the other room, Sam?” Dean mutters out. Both Sam and Castiel look up in surprise at Dean’s sudden change of heart. “I need some time to talk to my _husband_ , and I’d rather not have my brother listening in on that.”

So he’s given up. So he’s surrendering. This not-talking between them two has lasted long enough. They need to talk it out, today, even. No matter how long it’ll take, they’ll talk this thing out before Dean goes crazy.

“Eh, okay,” Sam quietly agrees. In the rear window, Dean can see Castiel’s reflection, looking out of the window again. His face looks worried, and scared, even, too. But Dean’s just done. They need to get past this, because this can’t go on anymore.

When he parks at the motel they checked in when they first arrived in this town, Sam accepts the key to the single-room without complaining. Dean doesn’t miss the look his brother throws at Cas before walking off.

Dean locks the car once the Angel got out as well, but neither of them say anything when they make their way to the room. Things have never been this awkward between them. It sucks, hard.

“You go first,” Dean says when he opens the door. He presses back against the door to let Castiel inside. A silent ‘thanks’ comes out of the Angel’s lips, and Dean barely heard it. The wooden floor makes a cracking noise when their weight comes on it. For a moment, the two remain still until they figure out that it won’t collapse under them.

The beds have a decent amount of space in between them. Castiel sits himself down on the one on the left, and Dean on the right. They’re facing each other, but neither of them are actually looking at each other. Dean slowly licks his lips. How is he going to do this?

“Listen, Cas,” Dean begins. He coughs once when something seems to get stuck in his throat. He wishes he could see the Angel’s face. He wishes he were sitting next to him, close to him. “I know I hurt you, it’s not something I’ll easily forgive myself for. But I can’t do this anymore, man. This, ignoring-thing we’ve got going. I can’t. It’s too much, and all we do is hurt each other more than we already have.”

Castiel stays quiet. His face is still lowered. The only movements on him are his breathing and the nervous twisting with the wedding ring. Dean reaches out for his hand, but before he can touch his skin, Castiel pulls back.

“Cas, please,” Dean begs of him. “I didn’t know, otherwise I wouldn’t have done it. I would never cheat on you. _Never_.”

There’s still no answer from Cas, except from a soft sob escaping from his lips. Dean looks up in surprise, having never seen his husband really cry like this. He looks so… human right now.

“Dean,” Castiel breathes out, but another sob keeps him from saying anything else. He suddenly stands up and tries to struggle his way out of his jacket. After it’s off, he angrily throws it on the floor before putting his hands on his face. In the middle of the room he just stands there, unmoving other than the shaking of his shoulders.

But then he seems to be shivering. Dean can see the tremors on his arms and legs, but only deems it serious when his breathing starts speeding up way too fast. In an instant Dean is back on his feet to tend for Cas.

“Babe?”

“Dean, I cant-!” Cas whispers out through his tears. He doesn’t remove the hands from his face, though, so Dean pries them away himself so he can look at his Angel. Castiel fights back, but barely. Before they know it, Dean’s got him in a tight embrace that’s supposed to help him through his panic attack.

“Shhh my Angel,’ Dean whispers at him. When he presses a small kiss on his head, Castiel only cries harder. Dean slowly rocks him as a way to calm him down.

“I-I love you so much, Dean,” Castiel gets out at last. His voice is still shaking, but at least he’s understandable. “It just hurts so much.”

It’s better not to say anything anymore. Especially when Dean feels his own tears rolling down his cheek all of the sudden. He hadn’t even realized he started crying. Instead, he clings on to Castiel tighter, making him sob even harder in his arms.

“I need you, Cas. So much.”

Of course those are not the words that he means. But Castiel surely knows what they’re supposed to say. He always does.

Look at them; two men – okay no, one Angel and one man-turned-into-woman – crying in each other’s arms after having one of their most hurtful fights ever. Dean’s had panic attacks enough with Castiel. First time when the Angel first told him he loved him, and secondly when he got those hell-flashbacks during sex. Those had come to some kind of a ‘fight’ between the two, until one of them surrendered and they decided to move forward again.

This seems different, though. Dean surrendered; heck, he even surrendered when he told the Angel about it all in the first place. Anyway, he surrendered, but they can’t seem to move forward again. They tried sleeping in the same bed, tried holding on to each other before dozing off. But it couldn’t work. And after that fight that made Dean sleep on the couch, he figured it would be easier to just snatch another mattress and sleep on the floor. At least that way they were together, but not too close.

“Dean,” Castiel suddenly breathes out, getting Dean out of his train of thoughts. They’re still holding on to each other, but Dean lightly pulls back to look Cas in the eyes. “Dean, will you please make love to me?”

He bites his lip. Of course he would want that; he would want nothing else. But he looks down at his own body to make clear to him that he’s missing a certain body-part to do that. Castiel realizes it then, too.

“Even so, Cas, I won’t have sex with you now. We’re both emotional, and we’ll surely regret it in the next morning.”

Castiel nods in agreement. He shudders again when Dean passes his hand over his face in a soft caress.

“Wanna go to sleep?” Dean asks. He’s tired, exhausted even. They still haven’t talked this through; there wasn’t much talking from the Angel’s side. But at least they’re speaking to each other again, which is good, right?

Once again, Castiel nods. Dean lets go of him completely so they can both get undressed. They’ve got their backs turned to each other to offer privacy. Castiel finishes before Dean does – Dean has this whole bra-trouble that he never had to deal with before – so he’s the one to push one bed against the other. It will be the first time they sleep together again since the big fight, so it’s kind of awkward. Castiel is still sniffing once in a while, but he at least calms down when Dean spoons up against his back and wraps his arms around him.

After a few minutes of silence, Dean takes a deep breath. Better now than never, he thinks.

“I love you, too,” he whispers against the Angel’s neck. No answer comes in return, and that’s when Dean realizes Cas has already fallen asleep.

 

* * *

 

 

_The next day_

So, apparently, there _is_ a case here. Dean woke up with his cellphone ringing loudly, and both him and Cas had groaned in annoyance from being woken so suddenly. An hour later, the three of them find themselves back in the auditorium of the school. Dean is busy talking to the Principal while Sam and Cas are with the cops, passing on information.

Mrs. Salazar brings him bad news when she says that the surveillance tapes of the school have nothing to show that looks out of the ordinary.

“Those girls just work too hard on that weird show, is all,” the woman says, and Dean can’t help but agree. About the weird-part of course. Who would want a musical based on their lives? Their lives suck!

All Sam and Cas got out of the cops was the image of a flower they found near Mrs. Chandler’s phone a few days ago. The flower is purple, but when Sam asks whether Dean recognizes it, he has to admit that, no, it doesn’t look familiar in any way.

Marie is bitter when the three confront her as well.

“Let me guess, you guys came here to laugh at me, too, right?” she asks the moment they reach her. Dean’s been doing nothing other than laughing at her these last few hours, but Hell, at least he should try to act a little bit friendly.

“Why don’t you tell us what happened to your friend?” Sam asks her instead. And so Marie starts talking.

“Maggie quit the show. She was trying to get us shut down, so we were fighting. Then she- she left, and I heard her scream. So I ran outside to help, and… and I saw a scarecrow. It looked just like the one from our show. But… alive.”

“Then what?” Dean asks when he feels that that’s not the end of her story. He can’t help the smirk on his face, but at least she doesn’t notice it.

“It wrapped her up in vines, and took her behind the dumpster. And then, they were both just… gone. So, I called the cops and a bunch of adults just told me I have an overactive imagination.” Her friend Maeve looks down while she speaks. “But, it’s all real. Ghost. Angels. Demons.”

Sam turns towards Dean, and Dean just nods. They talked about this on their way here, and it looks like right now is good enough to say it.

“I want to believe,” Maeve says, quoting the _X-files_. Dean smirks again at that.

“You should believe. You both should,” Sam then reveals, like they agreed to. “’Cause it is all real.

“And so are we. I’m Sam Winchester.” Sam gestures to himself before pointing towards Dean and Castiel respectively. “And they are Dean and Castiel.”

They appear shocked for a moment. Dean could understand that. Imagine having the characters you based your musical on suddenly appear in the auditorium said musical is taking place? That’s just too crazy for words.

But then the girls burst out laughing hysterically. A few students in the background look up at them. Dean feels his face redden at that strange reaction.

“Ok, now look. I’m willing to accept that monsters are real. But those books are works of fiction,” Marie says after a few moments of laughing. There are tears in her eyes.

“And you guys are way too old to be Sam, Dean, or even Castiel. Besides, last time I checked, _Dean_ is a man,” Maeve adds dryly. Marie nods wildly. “I would think, more of a Bobby/Rufus/Ellen combo? Maybe?”

Now those girls are just being rude, Dean thinks. “Okay, alright, little miss sunshine. We are what the books call hunters.”

Maeve tilts her head to the side. “FBI-hunters?” she asks. Dean figures that’s probably the best they’ll be able to do right now.

“Yeah,” he says. The girls turn to look at each other for a moment while they think, but then Maeve speaks again.

“You guys are X-files,” she states, looking a little bewildered for a moment. Her eyes are wide from the surprise and wonder.

“Sure, yeah, you can say that,” Sam mutters out. Castiel coughs for a moment then to get them back on track. Sam straightens up, then. “So, this scarecrow from your musical, is it based on the one from the books?”

Oh, yeah, Dean remembers that hunt. He and Sam had just had a massive fight about dad that day, and they split up for a little while. That had been a horrible case, people willing to sacrifice their own family for their sick believes.

“No, I changed it. I got stared of a local legend when I was a kid,” Marie explains. “There was this old creepy scarecrow, on an abandoned farm outside of town. Kids used to say if it caught you, it would take you away.”

“Okay. If this scarecrow is based off on your version, then Mrs. Chandler and Maggie might still be alive,” Dean understands. Next to him, Castiel nods in agreement.

“You think the scarecrow was created by the play?” Maeve asks.

“You think… it’s a tulpa!” Marie looks proud for finding this (almost) by herself. Next to him, Sam almost groans in frustration. Two tulpa’s in three months must be a personal record, right? With a smirk, he slaps his brother on the shoulder.

“You got a library in here?”

The girls take them to the library inside the school. It’s still early, so there aren’t many other students walking around in here. Sam takes a look around the archives, and eventually comes up with a book. He drops it down on the table so the two girls can read along.

“Tulpa’s are monsters that are created by an intense focused energy on an idea or…”

“On a story,” Marie finishes for him. Sam nods. Maeve just leans back in her chair.

“Great, how do you kill an idea?” she asks bitterly. Dean kind of likes this girl, she’s dry and sarcastic most of the times. Too bad she’s a drama-nerd.

“Well, in Hell House, Sam and Dean burnt the house down to take out the one tulpa they hunted,” Marie recalls from the book. Dean once again rolls his eyes, but he keeps calm.

“Yeah, yeah, you kill the symbol, you kill the tulpa. It’s actually a pretty good start,” Dean admits, though he can’t help it when his voice sounds annoyed. He receives a worried look from Castiel, which he ignores. “So the scarecrow on your play, is it a person or a prop?”

Please say prop, please say prop!

“Prop.” Thank God! “And it’s terrifying. We keep it in the boiler room.” Maeve nods while Marie speaks.

“That’s, uh… great,” Sam suddenly says. ‘Eh, can you guys read up? Just give us a sec’.” The girls nod and start reading, while Sam gestures for Dean and Cas to follow him.

“Eh, so this doesn’t add up,” Sam whispers when they’re on a safe distance away from the girls. “Tulpas require a ton of psychic energy to juice up.”

Dean nods.

“I do not believe it’s a tulpa, actually,” Castiel suddenly says “Like you say, it just doesn’t make sense. The gospels aren’t popular enough to be considered known over the whole world.”

“And I seriously doubt this play has even sold out,” Sam adds.

“I hope not,” Dean mutters in between.

“There is something about that flower, though,” Castiel suddenly says. “I’ve seen it before, but my memory doesn’t work as well as it used to. I’ll need to research it, but it’ll take some time.”

“Alright,” Dean then decides. “You two get on that, I’m gonna take a shot at burning man.”

They all agree to this, and then they split up. Marie agrees to show Dean to the boiler room, though she seems hesitant about this. For a moment, Dean wonders what hideous prop he will get to see once they’re downstairs.

Marie warns him when she points towards a thing that has a blanket thrown over it. She’s turning her head away to spare herself the sight. Enough waiting, now Dean is plainly curious at what could possibly be so scary.

When he pulls off the blanket, he’s faced with a scarecrow that looks like it just jumped off a friendly children’s cartoon. It has a round head, a cute little hat, and one blue and one red button for eyes. It almost looks like it just wants a hug instead of kidnap people. With a raised eyebrow, Dean turns towards Marie.

“Really?” he asks in disbelief. Marie nods while looking terrified, sill.

“I know, scary, right?” she asks. _Whatever_ , Dean thinks. He can’t even think of anything to say in return. Instead, he starts looking around for tools that might help him burn this thing down. He finds a wrench on a nearby table – which is strangely convenient, he has to admit.

“You wanna piñata this asshat?” he asks her while nudging the wrench in her way. For a moment, all fear escapes from Marie’s face, and instead she looks at him like she’s impressed.

“Asshat? Nice! It’s very Dean,” she says. Of course, it’s very Dean, since _Dean_ just said it. It doesn’t matter though, it’s not like she believes them being the real Sam and Dean. “No, he’s all yours, agent Smith.”

Oh, so she remembers his name. That’s good, since he had actually forgotten that was the name he had given himself yesterday. The name that Sam and Castiel took as well, making them look like they’re just a bunch of siblings unable to part from each other – which is actually kind of true, come to think of it.

The thing goes down easily, and it’s good to have something to take his anger out on. He instructs Marie to pick up the pieces afterward, so they can put it into the furnace. It all happens rather quickly, and before they know it, they’re back upstairs. Dean, trying to be friendly, holds the door to the library open for her.

“Thank you,” Marie says with a smile, and Dean can’t help but smile back, though smugly.

“We came, we was, we kicked-!”

“It’s not a tulpa,” Castiel interrupts him from where he’s seated.

“What?”

“It’s not a tulpa,” Sam repeats. Dean stares down at his brother until he’s standing right next to him. Then he lifts up a finger before speaking.

“Say it one more time, but just a little more Arnold, like – it’s not a tulpa.” He says that last part in a low voice that slightly resembles the Terminator, only, of course, in the voice of a woman. Damn, he misses to be able to impersonate those actors again.

“Dude, come on,” Sam bites in annoyance, at the same time that Castiel asks “Who is Arnold?” The two girls look at Castiel in surprise, but both Sam and Dean have learned to just roll with it. Cas doesn’t get references, so be it. They refuse to watch movies with him anymore since he’s the most horrible presentator they never asked for.

“The Goddess of epic poetry? The muse,” Maeve clarifies when Dean only stares at his brother with his mouth open. On the table there’s a book open with the portrait of a woman in a white dress and golden curls.

“The flower we saw is the borage, or starflower. It’s associated with her.” Castiel holds out another book where there’s a picture of said flower.

“Ok, wait. If this is a god thing, then what’s with the scarecrow?” Dean asks when he can’t find the connection himself.

“According to the lore, Calliope manifests creatures from the story she’s tuned into,” Castiel clarifies. Next to Dean, Marie nods, though she looks annoyed.

“So, the scarecrow is still alive and we burned my prop for _nothing_?” she asks.

“Oh, that thing needed to burn.”

Marie glares at Dean for a moment, but he’s only being honest here.

“The only way to destroy the scarecrow is to kill Calliope.” Castiel closes the book about flowers then. He keeps his eyes resting on Dean, looking like he’s trying to get something through to him.

“Right. She uses these manifestations, like the scarecrow, to inspire the author, and protect them, until their vision has is realized.” Dean stares Sam down when he doesn’t continue.

“Then what?” he asks. Why does he always have to push to get these answers out of him?

“Then, she eats the author.”

All of them turn towards Marie, who looks like she’s on the verge  of fainting.

“Okay, that’s bad, eh,” she starts. For a moment, she stays quiet while she thinks. Then, addresses Dean. “Well, you get your wish. Let’s cancel the show.”

Huh, Dean could roll with that, he figures. Of course, Castiel has to ruin his little moment of joy.

“That’s what your teacher and your classmate did. They tried to shut you down, and the scarecrow took them. Protecting you, and the show.”

“Okay, so, the scarecrow is the boogeyman. We got to take our shot with this, uh…”

“Calliope,” Castiel helps.

“Calliope,” Dean repeats. “But she won’t show herself until-“ Dean points his thumb towards Marie “your vision is realized.” He needs to repeat all this just so he can get a better understanding of the situation. Castiel and Sam make it clear that he’s right by nodding.

“So, what are you saying?” Marie asks.

Dean hates himself for this. So much. But it’s still the only way for them to finish this hunt.

“The show must go on.”

 

* * *

 

 

An inspiring speech later, they got it all settled out. Marie, being Maggie’s understudy, gets to play Sam. The scarecrow-part gets scrapped out due to ‘sudden problems with the prop’, and Sam, Cas and Dean are finally dressed into their normal clothes again. Okay, so Dean isn’t wearing a suit per se, but the elegant black clothing-thing really isn’t his thing. That, and the heels Lauren got him a while back.

‘ _It’s to make you at least_ appear _feminine, Dean,’_ she had said. She had a point, of course. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t still suck.

Later that evening, the whole cast and crew prepares for the opening night. At the entrance of the auditorium, people are handed over a flyer with the details about the show – Marie apparently worked hard on those, and she’s extremely proud about them.

Backstage, Marie is throwing out the last instructions for everybody. She’s nervous, that much is clear. Dean doesn’t even bother to listen to her most of the time.

All the actresses are standing in a row, and Marie passes them by to fix up their uniforms some more. A crooked sleeve here, a loose lock of hair there. ‘Bobby’s’ cap had been put on wrong. It’s those details that Dean wouldn’t even think about. Still, he follows her to make his own personal adjustments to the characters in front of him. Like how Bobby’s shirt would look a little more ruffled. He grins when he finds that the girl playing his dad is shorter than the girl playing his mother.

Marie is busy straightening Kristen’s wings. The girl looks nervous as well. Dean can see how she’s holding hands with her girlfriend – the girl playing _him_. Talk about coincidence. When Marie gets to Siobhan, Dean reaches out for Kristen’s tie. Something’s not right about it.

Castiel comes to stand behind him while he tries to turn the thing around.

“What are you doing?” he asks in a whisper. Dean turns his head towards his husband.

“I’m getting your tie right,” he tells him. Castiel suddenly blushes next to him. Once Dean is finished, Kristen looks down in confusion. She seems to want to ask for an explanation, but Dean simply shrugs.

“Cas is supposed to be cute and clueless, right?” he answers. Castiel punches his arm, but still smiles. This thing between them two seems to be getting better again, luckily. Then Dean moves forward towards Siobhan, and the first thing he sees on her is the amulet she’s wearing around her neck. It’s not the same one, of course. It’s almost twice its size, but the figure is kind of the same. Heck, he had forgotten all about that thing.

At that exact moment, Sam walks in with three pieces of wood in his hands. He clears his throat to get Dean’s attention.

In all secrecy he gets the wooden stake handed over. Then, Sam takes a good look at the cast, looking kind of impressed.

“Huh, pretty good,” he says. Then he points at Kristen. “Even got the tie right.”

Marie turns towards Kristen as well to see what he’s talking about. “That’s actually quite fitting,” she agrees. Dean laughs when Castiel rolls his eyes.

“Wait a second… where’s Chuck?” Sam suddenly asks.

“Oh! I- I love him, I do. But honestly, the whole author introducing himself into the narrative thing, it’s just not my favorite. I kind of hate the meta stories.”

Both Sam and Dean roll their eyes, adding their own ‘Me too’ to it. Castiel just shrugs, since he’s indifferent about it all.

It’s time, Dean then figures. They really should get this show on the road before the people in the audience realize what a load of crap this story is really about.

“Alright, listen up, girls. Now you’re all here because you love Supernatural,” Dean starts his speech, but he quickly gets interrupted again.

“Actually, I was hoping we’d do Wicked,” the girl dressed up as his mom says. Marie glares at her, but Dean can’t say he disagrees.

“Yeah, that’d have been easier,” he mutters. “I know I have expressed some differences of opinion regarding this particular version of Supernatural, but tonight it’s all about Marie’s vision.

“This is Marie’s Supernatural, so I want you to get out there, and I want you to stand as close as she wants you to, and I want you to put as much sub into that text as you possibly can.” Kristen nods excitedly.

“There’s no other road. No other way. No day, but today,” he quotes proudly. Next to him, Marie and Maeve are muttering something to each other. “Now you get out there, and you kick it in the ass!”

The girls let out an enthusiastic gasp, and Kristen nods excitedly again. “Alright!” she calls out. It’s kind of cute, Dean thinks.

“Bring it in!” Marie says, holding her hand forward. Quickly, all the others come to join her by reaching out their hands as well. The girls all start shouting together.

“Ghoooooooost-facerssssss,” they all say together. Okay, inspirational minute is over now, Dean thinks. He throws an annoyed look at Sam, to find his brother only smirking like he’s amused about it.

When Marie gets on the stage to introduce the play, the actresses scatter around backstage. Dean comes to join Maeve, but keeps an eye behind the curtain. In front of him, Sam is gesturing at him that everything is clear. When Dean turns towards Cas, the Angel says the same.

“Oke, she’s stalling,” Dean says when Marie is still talking to the audience. “Let’s do this.”

“Copy that,” Maeve agrees. “Curtain, kids. It’s show time.”

Before Marie can even finish her sentence, the music starts playing in the background. A few people in the audience start laughing slightly, but luckily, Marie takes that as her cue to finish up.

When Siobhan gets on the stage to start her song, Dean finds himself standing behind Maeve to follow the show for a moment. Okay, so her outfit kind of fits his, but the hair is just wrong, too long. But, then again, they took it from a book, so they wouldn’t really know any better, right?

Siobhan starts singing at last, and in the background, the two kids playing his parents get come up as well.

“ _John and Mary, husband and wife. Bringing home a brand new life. His name is Sammy, I’m big brother Dean. The perfect family, so it seems._ ”

Behind him, Castiel whispers up inside his ear. “So far I’ve seen nothing suspicious.” Dean nods in understanding.

“ _The demon’s visits had begun, it believed Sam was the chosen one. It burned my mother, and it cursed my brother. Leaving us in tears.”_

Maeve looks up at Dean when she finds him banging his head on the beat. Okay, so it’s kind of catchy? Sue him!

“ _On the road so far, yeah the road so far, we are in dad’s car. On the road so far.”_

On the other side of the stage, behind Sam, Dean sees it. The figure of the scarecrow, standing right behind his brother. He tries waving at him to get his attention. Then he points to something behind him. Sam returns the gestures and holds up a thumb, making it one of the rare times that he doesn’t understand what Dean is trying to say to him.

“Turn around!” he shouts at him, loud enough so Sam could hear. When his brother does, the scarecrow grabs a hold of him. Dean calls out for Castiel, and wants to make a run for it. He can’t just walk across the stage, though. Quickly, he searches for another way, seeing a small passage behind the background-picture. With a small notion he tells Castiel to follow him, making his way through to get to the other side.

“ _Dad was driven, no turning back. He wouldn’t stop without the payback. He trained us both to track and hunt and kill. He took away our own free will_.”

Finally Dean gets to the other side, finding nothing standing there anymore. Sam and the scarecrow are both gone, disappeared into thin air.

“Damn it!” he growls out. Castiel puts a hand on his shoulder to calm him down.

“ _So that’s where we are. On the road so far. Saving people, hunting things. Family business back in swing. Driving down the road so far._ ”

 

* * *

 

 

_A love-song from Castiel and a fight later_

 

During the intermission, the people sitting in the front row had received the chance to get cleaned up again so they could sit through the second act of the show. Dean, who has been thrown around during that last song, rubs on a sore spot on the shoulder he fell on.

Sam, Mrs. Chandler and Maggie all got out from where-ever they were locked up after the three of them worked together to kill Calliope. In the end, all that really matters to Dean is that they’re back safely, and not dead in some ditch.

He figures it’s time to make their leave now. They got the monster, they saved the people who had disappeared. There’s no more reason for them to stay here anymore. So, while the audience is slowly filling up again, Dean finds Marie to say goodbye. Cas follows him, but still keeps a distance.

“Well, you did good out there, kid,” Dean tells her. Marie grins up at him.

“Hmm, you’re not so bad yourself,” she says in return. A few of the tech-girls are busy checking out the Impala-prop to see if there’s anything broken on it. Dean watches them work for a moment.

“You know, this has been educational,” he then admits. “Seeing the story from your perspective. Keep writing, Shakespeare.”

“Even if it doesn’t match how you see it?”

Dean shrugs and turns to looks at Cas again. The Angel smiles up at him. “I have my version, you have yours.”

When the lights start flickering, Maeve starts shouting that they have one more minute before the show continues. Castiel holds out his hand to Marie, and she shakes it, thanking Castiel with a small bow. Dean puts his hand on Castiel’s shoulder, and both of them start to turn around.

“And Dean?” Marie suddenly calls out, making Dean turn around. Then, afterwards, he realizes that she just called him by his real name. Marie holds out her hand to give something to him. When he takes it, he finds the prop of the amulet inside his palm.

“You never should’ve thrown this away,” she says. Castiel eyes the thing carefully, but he doesn’t speak up. This amulet – or the original one, at least – doesn’t really have the greatest meaning for the Angel.

“It never really worked,” Dean lets out. “And I don’t need a symbol to remind me how I feel about my brother, so…”

“Just take it, jerk.”

“Bitch,” he returns, out of reflex. Then he realizes he’s not really talking to his brother. She doesn’t seem to mind, though, since she’s smiling widely.

“I hope you guys find a way to get you back to normal,” she suddenly says. “Though, I did stumble across a fan fiction once where you became a woman – that inspired the show, by the way. But anyway, in the story you became a woman so you could get a kid. Is that why you turned? To have a baby?”

Dean smirks, and Castiel looks away while blushing.

“No, eh, kids aren’t really in the cards for us, right now,” Dean admits. They’ve thought about it, more often than not, but eventually they always come to the conclusion that bringing a child into their world is dangerous. That hasn’t changed at all.

“Right, okay,” Marie says, and then she turns away to join Siobhan inside the fake-Impala. Dean and Castiel come to join Sam back next to Maeve, and they wait for the scene to start. Dean is surprised when Castiel takes a hold of his hand. It’s a good sign, though. It means he’s moving on.

Then Marie starts to talk again.

“We need to get back on the road, Dean. Doing what we do best.”

“It’s just, I don’t know anymore…” Siobhan mutters out. Sam frowns up at Dean in confusion.

“What’s that?” he asks him.

“It’s the, uh, the B.M. scene,” he explains.

“The bowel movement scene?” Sam asks. Dean wants to tell him to keep it quiet, but Castiel starts explaining what Marie told him. During the whole explanation, Dean can’t help but start laughing at Sam’s reaction.

“You’re right, Sammy. Out on the road. Just the two of us.”

“The two of us against the world,” Marie agrees.

That isn’t right, Dean figures. He squeezes Castiel’s hand lightly.

“The _three_ of us,” he mutters back. Castiel lights up at that. Slowly, he starts leaning forward, closing in on Dean’s face.

“I would like to kiss you, now,” he whispers against Dean’s lips, and who is Dean to deny him that. He leans forward as well, then, letting their lips smash together into a strong and heated kiss. Next to them, Sam and Maeve make a disgusted sound. _Children_ , Dean figures, but the two of them do pull back so they can catch the rest of the scene. The stage is dark, now, except for one spot where the girl playing his mother is standing, singing.

“ _Carry on my wayward son. There’ll be peace when you are done.”_

Then John joins in.

“ _Lay your weary head to rest. Don’t you cry no more._ ”

Dean allows Castiel to wrap his arm around his middle, and, despite it being sappy as fuck, he leans up against him. On the stage, the girl playing Bobby gets pushed forward in the wheelchair before she, too, stands up and joins in on the singing. Marie and Siobhan get out of the car as well.

_“Once I rose upon the noise and confusion. Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion. I was soaring ever higher. But I flew to high.”_

Suddenly, Kristen – though not in her Castiel-uniform – joins them on the stage in normal clothing. Next to them, Sam makes a confused noise.

“Who’s that?” he asks Dean, but it’s Maeve who answers.

“Oh, that’s Adam, John Winchester’s other kid,” she explains as if it’s nothing. “He’s still in the cage, you know, with Lucifer.”

An uneasy feeling sinks down on Dean when he watches the girls standing on the stage. It doesn’t seem like there’s a spot left for another character that needs to be there as well. With heavy voice, he turns towards Maeve.

“Why isn’t Cas up there?” he asks. Maeve just shrugs lightly.

“I guess because he isn’t really part of the bloodline?” she asks. Castiel squeezes Dean’s hand a little to assure him that it’s alright, but it still eats on Dean.

“Family, don’t end with blood,” he mutters, quoting Bobby’s own wise words. Maeve stares him down for a moment, before nodding.

“Yeah, that’s true,” she agrees.

“ _Masquerading as a man with the reason. My charade is the event of the season. And if I claim to be a wise man, it surely means I don’t know._

_“Carry on my wayward son. There’ll be peace when you are done. Lay your weary head to rest, don’t you cry no more.”_

Dean can’t help the tear that rolls out of his eye when he listens closely to the lyrics. They’re so fitting it’s almost scary. He can see that Sam, too, relates to it. It’s almost like the song has been written for them personally.

“ _Carry on._ ”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loved it? Hated it? Any recommendations or critiques? Don't be shy and let me know! All your sweet comments are like fuel to my writing process.
> 
> Also, for the next three weeks there won't be a chapter since I'm starting my exams this week, and I won't be able to finish one in time for next saturday. Apologies for that :(


	16. Cas look at that, Sam has girl trouble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so every evening during my exams I've managed to write a little bit more on this chapter. Probably because it has been spread over three weeks it ended up so much longer than expected. I'm sorry if things are a little short and strange in this chapter. That's what exams do with ya... Anyway, still have one to go on the sixteenth. 
> 
> Apologies for the awkwardness of the smut-scenes. I'm just bad at writing those, so I keep them as vaguely as possible.  
> Warnings about this chapters are:  
> \- Sam has trouble getting the girl  
> \- Dean and Cas try to do the do  
> \- Sam still has trouble getting the girl  
> \- Lauren is a BAMF  
> \- Awkward Hannah  
> \- Forced... heat? I don't know, it might count as that? Call it whatever you want when you see it!

# 

_Men of Letters HQ  
October 7th _

Things are still awkward between the two of them.

Okay, yeah, maybe they manage to kiss each other again without having the other one pulling away sooner than normally, and they’re able to sit in the same room together without throwing angry comments towards the other, but both of them know that it’s still not completely better between the two of them.

Dean notices it when they’re in bed. They still hold on to each other tightly, like they don’t ever want to let go of each other again. But it’s still stiff, and Dean knows it doesn’t just have anything to do with the fact that he slept with other women while he was away. He can feel it in his whole body, each time Cas holds him.

It’s because Dean is so different now that things are going bad.

He feels it in how Castiel’s hands travel over his body, carefully avoiding his now rounded breasts as if they’re acid. He also feels it in the way the Angel kisses him; as if he’s afraid to hurt him by kissing too wildly.

They’ve tried initiating sex. They’ve tried so hard by angrily making out in hope for any of them to feel even the slightest bit aroused. But it doesn’t work. Though Cas manages to get excited for it most of the time, they never actually succeed at _doing_ it because Dean practically panics every time the Angel tries to get close to that part Dean shouldn’t have.

That’s because it feels wrong, now. He’s missing all the parts he’s used to, and no matter how much he would love to have sex with him again, he can’t help but feel ashamed whenever Castiel throws one small look at the body he’s forced to have. Technically, it’s still _his_ body, just modified to go along with some sort of shit Prophecy Dean wants nothing to do about.

Meanwhile, outside of the bedroom, Sam and Dean both are working to find that vampire nest that has been going after Lauren for these last few weeks. So far, they have found nothing, but somehow Lauren doesn’t seem to be in a rush to leave. She and Castiel sill have those training-sessions going on, and apparently she’s managed to even surprise Sam with her shooting. Castiel also told him that, while her fighting skills are still stiff most of the time, she _did_ manage to pin down Sam during a sparring session. Sam had been irritated about that for a while.

This thing going on between Lauren and his brother is also something that remains a mystery to Dean. They obviously have the chemistry, and it isn’t a secret that the two were supposed to go on a date together before Sam had to run off for a hunt and slept with another woman – that sly dog. But things are tense between the two. They manage to talk without trouble, but more often than not are they throwing biting remarks at one another that leave the rest of the bunker quite uncomfortable where-ever they go. The chances of those two getting together soon are very slim, so Dean has stopped trying to nudge those two together. (Actually, Lauren had snapped at him after he made another subtle remark about the two, and now he’s completely terrified of her.)

Mrs. Tran has been enjoying herself on a day out at the mall, and brought home one of those fancy coffee makers that make Dean’s mouth water when he smells the newly brewed drink come out of that machine. Of course, he’s not going to admit that to anybody, because he has to keep up an image.

That’s why, when during another one of Lauren’s training sessions Sam comes over to him with a small cup filled with coffee, Dean tries to keep himself looking uninterested.

“Hey, yo,” Sam greets his brother. He’s walking carefully to avoid spilling any of the hot drinks. Dean wearily eyes the cup that gets handed to him. Sam, too eyes the cup, but more with some sort of fascination. “Individually brewed. Technology, man.”

“Real men don’t drink out of cups this small,” Dean counters grumpily. Sam frowns, and in the background, Lauren ducks away from another one of Castiel’s blows.

“It’s lucky that you’re not a man anymore, then,” she shoots back at him, sounding completely out of breath but still happy. Dean throws her an angry look in return, receiving a playful smile from Lauren instead.

He shakes his head then and brings the cup forward to take a good smell, finding the scent different than he’s used to with the normal coffee coming from the original machine. Oh, Linda Tran has been letting loose in that mall, and secretly, Dean loves it.

“What is that, cinnamon roll?” Dean asks while trying to identify the smell that is going through his nose.

“It’s, uh, glazed donut,” Sam answers carefully. “Look, man, if you don’t want it, I…” Sam is moving forward to take the cup back, but Dean pulls it closer towards him in a protective way.

“Nah, it’s… got it,” he mutters back. He hides away his enjoyment while taking a large sip from the coffee, almost burning his tongue on its heat. “So any leads on the scanner or the interweb?”

“Nothing, not even a cat up a tree,” Sam answers. It’s how things seem to have been going. As if it isn’t bad enough that they can’t find a single lead that brings them to the vampire’s nest, now apparently all the monsters around the world have decided to take a small leave of absence.

“So right when we’re ready to jump back into it, it goes radio silence,” he mutters out angrily. Sam just shrugs while eyeing Lauren push away Castiel again. She’s getting really good at this, Dean realizes. She’s good with guns, she knows her weapons, she can defend herself easily against Castiel… Looks to him like she’s been trying to train herself not just for self-defense but rather to become a hunter herself. That, though, is a big no-go in his opinion.

“Murphy’s law,” Sam mutters out, bringing Dean out of is train of thoughts. He snorts and lifts the cup up again.

“Well, Murphy’s a douche,” Dean grunts out. After that, Castiel and Lauren decide to end it here. They’re both sweaty and panting when they shake their hands, and then they go their separate ways. Lauren throws a small smile towards Dean before running off, ignoring Sam like she usually does. The younger hunter glares back at her when she passes.

“Ah, Cas look at that, Sam has girl trouble,” Dean tells him with a smirk on his face. Castiel is busy with wiping the sweat off his face, but Dean isn’t mistaking about that smile that has come up on his face.

“Shut up,” Sam mutters back. “Maybe you should try sparring with Cas a little bit, too? Figure out the strength you have at the moment?”

Castiel looks at Dean expectantly, and for a moment, Dean thinks it over. It might be good to test his limits, but right now he’s recalling something that needs to be addressed now before he forgets about it again. He fishes out an old cellphone that had been lying in the Impala. He had recharged it, opened it – because he just knows every passcode on those damn cellphones scattering around in there – and read through every message that had been sent to it.

“Maybe later,” Dean says. He holds the phone up in the air to let Sam and Cas look at it. “Feel like taking a small road trip to Connecticut?” Sam takes over the grey cellphone to check it out.

“What?” he asks in confusion.

“Found it while I was dustbusting,” Dean mutters before taking another sip from the cup. That morning he had thrown a proud look at his Baby to see that she was now completely back in order, and shinier than ever.

“One of ours?” Sam asks when Castiel takes the phone from him to inspect it as well.

“It’s one of Bobby’s. And, in total, 27 messages. The only one that counts is from two days ago. Apparently, Bobby’s been named a beneficiary in Bunny LaCroix’s will.”

“Bunny LaWho?” Sam asks again. Castiel hands the phone back to Dean, who opens up the screen of the phone to search back through the messages.

“Attorney said she’s an heiress and Bobby’s presence or next of kin is being requested in New Canaan,” he half reads from the screen. Then he closes it again and puts the device in his pant pocket. “I figured we qualify?”

Castiel nods before taking over Dean’s cup to drink from it himself. Dean lets him be, though he had just been planning on drinking it empty before his husband stole it from him. Ah, well, you can’t have a good marriage without making a few sacrifices, including giving away the last of the coffee. Castiel drops the cup down on the table when he’s finished.

“How did Bobby know an heiress?” Sam still doesn’t look convinced, and his eyes are resting on the cup now lying on the table, as if he’s surprised by what has just happened here. Dean stiffly offers his hand to Castiel, and the Angel takes it in his own. His grip is gentle, and a little bit too loose. Dean might one day be going crazy by how careful the guy is being with him.

“Bobby had secrets, man. Like loving on Tory Spelling,” he mutters out while thinking back of one of those conversation he’s had with Bobby back when he was still alive. It had been evening, and both had been tired but refusing to get into bed because a good show was running on the TV. “If only he knew Dean cheated on her…”

When he looks up he finds both Sam and Castiel eyeing him in confusion, which makes him realize he’s been talking without thinking again. Damn it.

“Anyway, road trip? Who knows – maybe Bobby earned us some beer money.”

 The door to the room closes then all of the sudden, and they see Lauren, only wearing a towel around her body when they turn around. She’s making soundless steps towards them and with another towel she’s busy drying her hair. Dean hadn’t realized they had been here for so long. That, or Lauren managed to get showered in five minutes.

“Heiresses? Beneficiary? Sounds like some fancy trip,” she says. Dean knows she’s walking around like this with the purpose of making Sam uncomfortable, and much to his amusement, it’s actually working. Castiel clears his throat next to him, so to assure him Dean squeezes his fingers a little bit.

“Yeah, it’s, uh…” Sam looks completely flustered at Lauren’s appearance. He keeps his head low, and his hand goes up to scratch in his hair. It’s hilarious!

“I better hope you’re not going, dressed in _that_?” She not only points at Sam’s clothes, but at Dean’s as well. Dean looks down to look at his attire, finding nothing wrong with it. He’s been wearing this kind of thing for years!

“What’s wrong with our clothes?” Dean asks defensively. Lauren raises an eyebrow at his remark, and rests her hands on her hips.

“Sweety, these things are often very fancy and all that. I’ve seen enough of those to know we’ll stick out like sore thumbs arriving there looking like _this.”_

“Yeah, especially in _that_ towel,” Dean jokes. “I mean, _white, seriously_?”

“Shut up, let’s get dressed,” she says, and she grabs Dean’s wrist to pull him along. Dean begrudgingly lets go of Castiel, missing the contact of his skin the moment they’re pulled apart. “You two suit up, maybe wear one of those fancy long coats, too. It has to be classy!”

“But…” Castiel stammers out, looking down at his sweaty clothes. Okay, he’ll probably take a shower first. Sam, on the other hand, looks like he’s not really on board with this plan.

“Who said _you_ ’re coming along?” he shouts at her before they can reach the door. Lauren smirks, then, and Dean doesn’t really know how to place that look on her face.

“Of course I’m coming along! Would you really want to do this without your _lawyer_ being present?” After that she opens up the door and pulls Dean out of the room. With a sigh, the hunter surrenders completely. So it’s going to be one of _those_ days where he’s pretending to be her dress-up doll or something. He should never have allowed Lauren to go shopping for clothes a few weeks back, because he had been trying on _way_ too many dresses he never plans on wearing. At least he had convinced her that heels really aren’t anything for him – since that last, weird, case, his feet had needed almost a week of rest. He had thrown those heels out of the bunker, and they are probably still rotting outside in the grass. Good riddance.

Lauren fusses over his clothes – like he suspected, she throws one of those dresses back at him. It’s a slim, dark cocktail dress that, back in the day, he would have loved seeing on other women.  He could never have imagined that, today, he’d be the kind-of woman wearing them. The universe has a sick sense of humor.

“Your hair has grown, which is good because otherwise you would have looked like one of those army-women in those movies,” Lauren mutters. She pours some sort of gel in her hands before passing them through Dean’s hair. He had noticed how much longer his hair has ended up looking, but he figures it can’t do much bad to keep it a little bit longer. At least he’ll _look_ like a women when he’s out in public.

“This is embarrassing,” Dean mutters out when Lauren goes to her make-up box. He can’t believe this is happening, and normally he would do _anything_ that would get him out of here. Sadly, Lauren is one very scary woman when she’s angry, and nobody could surpass her dominance. So, he allows it when she starts passing some sort of sponge over his face to smoothen his skin, before passing a light brush over them. His nose tickles from the powder.

“Damn it, woman!” he calls out when he sneezes. Lauren slaps him on the shoulder before continuing.

“Hush, whiny little brat!” she chastises him. Why is it that Lauren _always_ gets what she wants? Is she just that persuasive? She’s obviously extremely skilled if she manages to get to use a man as her own personal make-up doll.

“You don’t want them to look at you crazy, now, don’t you?” she asks him while testing out some sort of crayon. Dean knows where that one goes – he’s seen her applying it on herself a few times back when he still lived with her. Against his will, he closes his eyes to let her do her thing.

“I don’t give a single fuck about how they look at me,” Dean mutters back. Lauren makes a disapproving noise, and that’s when Dean feels that strange pressure on his eyes from the crayon. In his mind, he curses everything he can think of for letting this happen.

“I’ve been wanting to see how you would look with a little bit of make-up, you know,” she tells him when she starts at the other eye. With her thumb she passes over the line she just drew, and then another feeling comes – is that a small brush?

“I hate this,” Dean grumbles out. Lauren chuckles, but finishes off at last after toying a little bit with his lashes. After that, Dean opens up his eyes and finds another person looking back at him. His hair is styled to the right in a way that looks feminine despite how short it is, and his face looks like he just came out of a magazine. With his fingers he passes over his skin, noticing how it still feels rough underneath the layers of powder. His freckles are barely visible.

He is now, truly, a painted whore.

“Now put on that dress, the boys must be ready very soon.”

Dean nods without taking his eyes off his reflection. He has to admit that he looks… good, in a way. It had been strange to look at his face being so much more feminine at first, but now it’s like he’s not even himself anymore. He figures that, had he been born a girl, this wouldn’t have been strange to him at all.

Weird how one little detail can mean so much difference.

True to her words, Castiel and Sam had both finished when they came out of their room. Lauren had shown mercy and gave Dean a pair of flat shoes that don’t make him trip with every step. He’s wearing one of Lauren’s long, red coats, which at least covers his body even for a little bit. He keeps his head down when they arrive in the main hall, mostly ashamed of what the others would say. Lauren, next to him, doesn’t seem to be that flustered. She practically jumps down the stairs to join the others.

“Come on, Dean, don’t be shy!” she calls out, and Dean then finally looked up, unable to keep the annoyed expression from his face. He sees Sam and Kevin looking at him with their mouths fallen open, but Castiel just… stares. It’s disconcerting, and Dean can feel the strong urge to turn around and wash the crap off of his face. He doesn’t, though, because something inside of him stops him from doing that. Probably the fear of Lauren’s wrath.

“Stop staring and let’s get this thing on the road,” Dean grumbles out angrily after a few more uncomfortable seconds. He marches through the room and ignores the whistle coming from Crowley a little further away. Lauren is _so_ going to pay for this.

 

* * *

 

_Connecticut, New Canaan  
A little while later._

 

It is not so much a house as it is a mansion appearing in front of them once they reach their destination. Dean can’t help but let his mouth fall open when he lets his car pass through the portal large enough to let two cars pass through. Inside the court, there are a few more expensive cars parked there. So, okay, Lauren might have had a point about sticking out like sore thumbs. Still, he wishes he wouldn’t have to wear a dress for that.

“Am I glad you told us to dress up,” Sam mutters at Lauren when he gets out of the front seat. Lauren stretches her limbs when she gets out as well. She lets out a yawn before she talks.

“Like I said, done a few things like this before.”

Once they arrive at the door, Dean eyes the thing carefully. It’s brown, made from wood, and there are some black ornaments on it. Looks fancy enough. With a strong push, Dean presses the doorbell, expecting the typical ringing. Instead, the melody of Beethoven’s _Für Elise_ starts playing. Dean’s eyes go wide, and next to him, Lauren smirks.

When the door opens soon enough, a young lady stands there, dressed in a maid’s costume. She’s small, and has big eyes that look up at the four people standing in her doorway.

“May I help you?” the girls asks them in confusion. Sam takes a breath when he prepares himself to talk, but Lauren interrupts her.

“We are the Winchesters, here on behalf of Bobby Singer,” she says. Dean looks down when the girl looks at them in an inspecting way.

“Mr. Singer won’t be coming?” she asks carefully. Dean shakes his head.

“No, he passed away,” he answers, failing bad at trying to hide away the shaking in his voice. The girl lowers her shoulders a little bit upon hearing his answer.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” she says. She sounds actually apologetic about that, which is something Dean can appreciate. He glances a short look at Castiel, who so far hasn’t said anything since they got into the car. He’s too quiet, Dean thinks.

Sam offers his own condolences towards the girl, and when she reveals that they just missed the funeral, Dean thinks that they’d better just leave already, now. Then, suddenly, she invites them inside to meet the rest of the family. Before either of the two brothers can say anything, Lauren is thanking her and making her first step inside the house. The maid takes over their coats to hang them up – Dean feels naked without it, but luckily Castiel seems to notice it. He puts his hands on her shoulder to cover them up a little bit. A soft kiss is then pressed on his cheek, which makes him blush a little bit. Hopefully, all those layers of make-up manage to cover that up as well.

“Allow me to introduce the Winchesters,” the girl says when she arrives in a big living room where a bunch of classy people are sitting. A few of them are holding expensive wine-glasses. One man is playing pool, and has another young girl watching over his shoulder. A woman with shoulder-length blonde hair stands up from the couch and walks towards them.

“Winchester of the Westchester Winchesters?” she asks, looking at Sam and Castiel appreciatively. Dean feels like growling at that, but keeps himself in check.

“Uh,” Castiel lets out when the woman comes to stand right in front of him. Dean can’t help but clear his throat.

“No, my brother and I have no relation with any Winchesters from Westchester,” he tells her defensively. The woman turns to look at him with an understanding face, and then her eyes lower down to where Dean’s hand is now holding Castiel’s in a claiming way. She nods and takes a step back.

“No matter,” she says. “You two are adorable.”

Dean squeezes Castiel’s hand at that remark. Sam looks down in embarrassment, but Castiel just frowns at her. Sadly, Lauren decides to go along with it.

“Aren’t they? I guess that’s why we married them,” she says. She pokes her elbow in Dean’s arm. “Or, at least, they are married! Sammy here is too afraid to pop the question.”

Sam’s face is now completely red from blushing.

“Oh, better get on with that, then,” the woman says, though Dean can hear a twinge of disappointment in her voice. “I’m Heddy, Bunny’s cousin. And this is my sister Beverly.” At that last part she points towards the other woman sitting on the couch. They look slightly alike. Beverly has long blonde hair and a wide smile. She lifts up her wine-glass when her sister points towards her.

“Charmed, I’m sure,” she says. Dean bites his lips to keep himself from muttering out something inappropriate. Then Heddy starts introducing the other people in the room, starting with the man playing pool – Stanton – and his child bride – Amber. Then she continues to the other man leaning against the fireplace – Dash.

He’s also the one to finally ask why exactly they’re here.

“We didn’t personally know her. Our- our surrogate dad, Bobby Singer did.” Dean nods after Sam got it out. Beverly smiles only wider.

“Bobby? Never heard of him. But you can fill us in over the weekend, huh,” she tells him. Dean hasn’t seen her drink from that glass of wine since they got in, and wonders if she even likes the drink in the first place, or if it’s just an attempt to look classy.

“The weekend?” Castiel asks in confusion.

“Didn’t the attorney tell you? Service was today and the reading of the will tomorrow,” Heddy clarifies. The others in the room nod. Dean doesn’t like these women, especially with the way they’re looking at Sam and Cas. Or, maybe not so much about Sam – the guy could use getting laid again, since he’s so tense all the time.

“Oh, but you’re welcome to spend the night! All the rooms sleep two.” And finally, then Beverly drinks from her glass. The other woman, Heddy, moves forward and, despite Dean standing right next to him, she slaps him on the ass.

“Or three,” she says suggestively while wiggling her eyebrows.

“Okay!” Dean calls out in panic before turning towards his husband. In another act of claiming he wraps his arm around Castiel’s side to press him closer towards him. In the meantime, a man that probably could be the butler of the house has gotten in, and he started explaining how another girl – called Colette – had quit after being sad about Mrs. LaCroix’ passing. Dean decides not to pay too much attention on it.

Then the butler walks towards the four newcomers. “May I have a word with you in the hall in five minutes?”

The brothers nod in agreement, and then the man is out again, leaving through the door behind them.

After avoiding another one of Beverly’s attempts of flirting with Sam – much to Dean’s and Lauren’s amusement – they go to meet the butler in the hallway like they agreed to. The man is holding an envelope in his hands while he’s making his way towards them. While they wait for him to arrive, Dean leans towards his brother.

“ _Charmed, I’m sure_ ,” he quotes Beverly in annoyance. “What are these people?”

“I think they’re called W.A.S.P.S,” Sam answers in return.

“What?”

But Sam doesn’t clarify, since the butler arrives at that moment. Sam hides his hands inside of the pockets of his jacket, and Lauren stands on his right. Dean motions for Cas to come closer, which the Angel does. He’s once again resting his hands on Dean’s shoulders, which the hunter appreciates a lot.

“My apologies for being so oblique back there, but I’m doing you boys a favor,” the man tells them, whatever that means.

“Okay,” Sam gets out in confusion.

“As you know, Mrs. LaCroix bequeathed something to your Mister Singer,” the man starts. “But the reading of the will isn’t until tomorrow, and I would hate for you to have to stick around and be forced to – well, mingle with the family.”

Dean shudders a little bit at the thought of spending one night in this place. These people are insane, openly flirting with married men… Still, he feels like the butler is seeing right through his mask of classy make-up.

“Don’t worry, Alfred, we know which one the shrimp fork is, kind of,” Dean defends himself.

“Oh, Mrs. Winchester, if you’re implying that I don’t think you’re good enough, it’s quite the contrary,” the butler retorts in an apology. “You’re far too good. The LaCroix family is… How shall I say this politely? Money grubbing leaches.”

Okay, not really what Dean had been expecting. “What are you talking about? I thought they were all loaded?”

“Loaded, yes; Rich, no. the recession hit every one of them and I’m afraid if they knew what Bunny left you, those vultures would try to stake claim. And since the attorney kindly agreed to a hand-off, you don’t have to be subjected to their scrutiny.” He then finally hands over the envelope to Dean, who takes it and eyes it carefully.

“Do you have any idea how Bunny and Bobby knew each other?” Sam asks then, which is probably the question that has been hanging around everybody’s mind here. Ah, well, probably except for Lauren, of course.

“Not in the slightest,” the butler says after a few moments of silence. It looks kind of suspicious. Behind them, the maid walks up towards them. “Um, now if there’s nothing else, shall I have Olivia show you out?”

“No, no, that’s, uh…” Dean shakes his head and makes a waving motion with his hand. With one small look towards Castiel, the Angel lets go of him again. “We got it, thanks.”

The butler nods at them all before making his leave again, and the maid – Olivia – follows him out of the hallway. As soon as they’re a little further away, Dean can’t open the envelope quickly enough. Sam looks along over his shoulder, while Castiel seems to stare at the maid walking away for a moment.

“Cas, eyes off the booty,” Dean chastises him when he notices. Castiel clears his throat again and scratches his chin in uneasiness. When Dean finally gets the damn thing open, some sort of necklace comes out.

It’s a cross. Not the usual cross that would hang in every catholic house, but more… Celtic? It has little gems in it, too.

“Huh,” Dean mutters while he takes a closer look. “Kind of fancy to leave a guy like Bobby.”

Castiel holds out his hand to take it over, but before he can even touch it Lauren’s already snatching it from Dean’s hands. She turns around and holds it up in the air to check it out a little further.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Sam asks. Dean nods, and he can’t help the grin that spreads on his face.

“If Bunny was banging Bobby, then maybe these rocks are real,” he calls out with a smile. Castiel throws him an annoyed look, which he ignores. This thing could bring them a lot of money, damn it.

 

* * *

 

 

They aren’t real.

The rubies are as fake as Ruby had been, and it’s worth absolutely nothing. Except, then, that it turns out to be a key. A damn key, hidden in the cross filled with fake-rubies. What a joke.

So, they do what every normal and curious person would do; they go back to where it came from to find out what lock it’s supposed to go in to. Surely, the butler knows something.

Before they return back to the house, though, they make a quick stop to the motel they’re staying at, and they rent two rooms; one for him and Cas, and another one with two queens for Sam and Lauren – Sam had objected, but Lauren obviously couldn’t care any less about who she’s sharing her room with. She even took Dean in her house for crying out loud, of course she doesn’t care about that.

“Let’s eat something before we get back to the house?” Sam asks after the four of them have dropped their bags in their own room. Dean washed off the massive amount of make-up from his face, but ended up like some strange freaky girl from those horror movies that Lauren had to come in and get that crap off of her with the tissues meant for that sort of thing. Being a woman surely brings a lot of trouble with it, Dean realizes. No wonder it always takes them so long to get out of the bathroom.

He’s, again, safely inside a pair of pants – classy pants, since they’re still going back to the house – and Lauren has given him some black shirt to put over it. He keeps his hair the way Lauren styled it, because it didn’t look that bad. The moment Dean comes out of the bathroom with a fresh face, Castiel seems relieved to see him like that again. _Yeah, you and me, both,_ Dean thinks.

They find a little diner where they can refill their stomachs, and it doesn’t take long until their food arrives. Dean sits next to Cas, and they have their sides pressed next to each other. In front of them, Lauren eats like nothing is wrong, while Sam looks kind of uncomfortable. It’s really hilarious to see his brother trying to act like Lauren doesn’t bother him. Everybody can see that he’s interested in her.

“So, Sam, when _are_ you going to pop the question?” Dean asks jokingly, in an attempt to distract them from that key lying in the middle of the table. They all took a good look at it, but nobody really came up with an idea as to where it would possibly fit.

“What question?” Sam asks after swallowing his mouthful of salad. Dean throws a small grin towards Lauren, who grins back.

“You know, Lauren’s waiting and all. Better ask her before she meets another guy and marries him instead,” he continues. Lauren snorts beside Sam, and even Castiel lets out a soft chuckle. Sam frowns at him with his fork stuck in the air. For a moment, it looks like his brain is fried, and he’s unable to think anymore. Then, the bitchface comes up.

“Shut up, jerk,” he mutters. His fork finally goes to his mouth. The rest of the table is laughing at how flustered he looks. After that, they speculate some more on where that key might fit in to, but other than a few useless suggestions, they come up with nothing.

When they finally arrive back at the mansion, the first thing they see is a new car standing there. It’s dark, so it’s not really the first thing they see, but as soon as Sam notices, they realize that it must belong to a cop, seeing as it has the alarm-thing installed inside.

The doorbell is still the same when Sam rings it, but this time the butler opens the door.

“Everything okay?” Dean asks, and the butler sighs.

“Not really,” he mutters out, but he keeps the door open for them to get in. When they’re all inside, the man takes another look at Dean, who looks completely different without the make-up and the dress. _This is better_ , Dean thinks. “I presume you left something behind? I’ll check the front closet for cheap clothing.”

“No, we got everything,” Castiel tells before Dean can throw back a remark. Right after that, another man they didn’t see before walks up to them.

“You four were here earlier?” he asks while pointing towards the four of them.

“Yeah, who wants to know?” Dean grumbles back. The man then lifts the side of his coat so they can see the badge pinned to his pants. A little further, a gun is safely tucked away. This could be trouble.

“Detective Howard, New Canaan P.D.” the man answers. “Congratulations ladies and gentlemen, you’re now officially murder suspects.”

And that’s how they learn that Bunny LaCroix’ brother had been killed that evening.

When they get into the same room they met the rest of the family before, they find the guy – Dash – arguing with Heddy.

“You’re off your rocker, old lady!” he throws at her. Heddy, now wearing a colorful cocktail dress, looks insulted.

“Old lady? I…” then she notices that there are new people standing in the room, and she laughs a little bit. “I’m thirty nine,” she returns. Oh, right, she has the hots for Cas. Dean had forgotten for a moment. The two continue arguing for a little while longer. Apparently, Heddy is sure that Amber is the murderer, though Dash is convinced of her innocence.

But then she mentioned that Amber believes Bunny’s _dead_ husband killed the guy. In panic, Dean turns to Sam to find him obviously thinking the same thing. There might be a case for them here.

And they freaking brought Lauren along!

 

* * *

 

 

They split up quickly after deciding that they can’t do much else with that cop inside the house. Sam is tasked with the assignment to keep an eye on the four remaining family members, while Dean, Cas and Lauren go and take a look around. Sam had objected about staying behind while Lauren gets to sniff around, but they had all agreed that these women seem to have a tiny little crush on both him and Cas, and there was no way that Dean would let these ladies flirt with Cas while he’s not in the room. Lauren has been told to stick close to Cas, so at least they are not alone.

After about twenty minutes of looking, Dean gets into the room behind the outlines of Stanford’s dead body and head. The entryway to the bedroom is sealed off by police tape, and Dean doesn’t really feel like bending down to get underneath it. His eyes travel all around to see if there’s any other clue before he gets in.

There’s a large bookcase next to him that catches his attention. Or mostly, one certain book inside of it. For a moment it looks like the symbol on it that matches the cross from the necklace. When he takes a closer look, he finds out it’s a complete match.

He reaches out for the black book after holding up the key next to it to compare the two. Yup, exactly the same. Dean doesn’t hesitate for any moment longer and reaches out for it. Maybe inside there might be a clue or anything that explains what that key is for.

The book doesn’t come out, though. He pulls on it, but instead of coming off the shelf, it remains stuck and a loud clicking noise comes out from behind it. Immediately, the left side of the bookcase jumps open to reveal an entryway to Dean. Or, no. Dean opens up the ‘door’ a little more to find another door on the inside.

With on it a lock.

Once again Dean pulls up the necklace and he detaches the key from it. When he pushes it inside, it’s a perfect fit, and after turning it to the side the door swings open.

It leads him into a darkened room, filled with random crap lying around. Dean finds some sort of iron pipe which might come in handy, though the rope lying next to it might be a little exaggerated. He leaves it lying next to the creepy doll sitting there with a permanent smile on its face.

With the pipe he then moves forward through a narrow opening behind a shelf. After a while, the light of the hallway behind him doesn’t reach his current location anymore, but coincidentally, he brought a flashlight along. He thanks whoever might be listening when the thing lights up instead of having empty batteries.

As it turns out, there’s only more creepy stuff scattered around here. It’s mostly random crap that one would sell on a yard sale, but obviously somebody couldn’t part from her things back when she was still alive. There are cobwebs hanging all around. Next to him, there’s a bird cage, luckily empty of a rotting bird carcass.

His light lands on something else than. A plate with a piece of bread. And a glass of milk. _That_ looks out of the ordinary, here. He shines the light a little up, only finding an old TV and a plushy of a dog, before lowering it again. It’s then that he notices the feet.

The body that belongs to those feet is hidden away under a carpet, so Dean suspects another dead person that is lying here. Something’s definitely going on in this place. When he hears footsteps running away from the beam of light, Dean’s heart skips a beat for a moment. He squeezes the pipe for a moment in a need of reassurance that he can defend himself. Hopefully, Cas and Lauren are much safer where-ever they are.

In the end, it only ends up to be Olivia, the maid. She’s trying to hide away behind a shelf, but as soon as she realizes it’s Dean, she comes out a little more.

“Mrs. Winchester?” she asks, just to be sure.

“Olivia?” Dean asks in equal surprise.

“Thank God!” Olivia breathes out in shudders. “I thought you were him!”

“Him who?” Dean presses on, because apparently nobody can be specific anymore these days.

“Philip, the butler,” she clarifies. “He locked me in here because I wouldn’t lie to the detective about what I saw.”

Oh, so she was there? That’s perfect, right? “What did you see?” he asks her. Olivia shakes her head while the tears swell up in her eyes.

“I saw him rolling Colette’s body in a rug,” she gets out. Dean recalls the name Colette; it’s that other maid the butler talked about a few hours earlier.

“Clown college Colette?” he asks when he remembers what the guy had said about her supposed location. “The butler killed her?”

Olivia shakes her head. “No, no, he just hid her!”

“Then who killed her?” Because apparently it’s one of those days that Dean has to drag everything out of another person before they could give straight answers. Long live the job.

“I know this is gonna sound crazy, but I saw it with my own eyes,” she begins, which makes Dean connect the dots.

“Let me guess, Lance’s ghost?”

But Olivia shakes her head, then. “No, Bunny’s.”

After that, Dean helped Olivia out of the room while thinking about this whole damn case in the meantime. Not only is there one ghost, but now there are two, meaning that Lauren is in twice as much danger. He should never have even thought that it would be safe for her to come along.

He meets up with the other two along the way, hearing that they found nothing at all that might even look suspicious. Dean waits before updating them, though, because otherwise he might have to tell the same story twice, and he’s not much of a fan of storytelling.

When they get back to the living room, he finds Sam playing cards with the two cougars constantly trying to flirt with him. The moment the guy notices the others walking in he excuses himself, much to the women’s disappointment.

“Hey, so?” he then asks, and so Dean starts explaining what he saw. The hidden room, Colette’s body, Olivia locked up. Castiel and Sam both nod in understanding when he brings up the fact that there are two vengeful spirits, but Lauren just looks confused instead.

“Vengeful spirits, how do we deal with those?” she asks, sounding really interested in this. Dean wants nothing more than to tell her to mind her own business, to keep her out of this life she’s trying to dig herself in to, but once again, he finds himself unable to deny her anything. She has that effect on people.

“Iron scares them off, so does salt. To get rid of them, we need to burn the bodies,” he explains. Castiel snorts next to him.

“I’m afraid there won’t be bones to speak of. Bunny died quite recently, the body probably isn’t even decaying yet.” And Dean has to admit that he has a point. That won’t be pleasant at all. But heck, maybe that sight might scare Lauren off from hunting for good.

“First things first, we need to find the butler and get some answers out of him. He might know where the bodies are buried.”

The other three nod, then and they decide to split up. Lauren and Sam go upstairs to look there, while Dean and Castiel take the whole ground floor. The guy can’t be _that_ impossible to find, right?

Wrong. The guy is almost impossible to find, but mostly because the real him is lying dead in the kitchen, and there’s another person running around with the ability to get into the butler’s exact form. Shapeshifters, Dean realizes angrily when he gets up from where the monster threw him and Castiel. He helps his Angel up when the guy looks around disoriented, and that’s when he notices the shedding that mostly follows with shifting shapes. Yup, totally a shapeshifter. Great.

With the help from the maid Olivia, they managed to get to some silver knives that might help them indicate the thing. Olivia is confused when they explain to her – and Lauren – what it’s all about, and then the four of them split up again. That ends up with Dean realizing that the guy, Dash, and Stanford’s wife, Amber, are sneakily making out in closets. After the necessary test to find out if they’re clean, they end up exactly where they started; nowhere.

Lauren, Castiel and Dean meet back up in the living room to find Sam sitting on the couch with two women fussing over him. Beverly is working on his hair while Heddy is inspecting his hands. It’s a real hilarious sight, but mostly because Sam looks absolutely desperate to get out of there.

And then Olivia finds the sheriff dead, drowned in the toilet. Things seem to be getting crazier by the minute, especially when the other members of the family start bickering together about who might have killed Stan in the first place, as if there isn’t a dead body lying face-first in the toilet. Creeps.

Things go sideways almost immediately afterwards. Dash points his gun towards them and locks the four of them up in a room, and from the security camera images that appear on a screen inside that very room, Lauren is the one to notice Olivia aiming her gun at the family. Their suspicions are confirmed when her eyes reflect in the image of the camera. So it had been Olivia all along!

Sam finds a gun safe after a little while. Lauren and Dean had been following Olivia on the screen the entire time. So far, she’s busy with the typical villain monologue. That buys them enough time to get in there. Sam readies four guns and hands them to each of them in the end. Dean catches how Lauren holds it like she’s completely used to it, in contrast to Castiel’s inspecting gaze he throws upon it while he tries to get to know the thing.

Thanks to the gun, they manage to open the door, and soon enough their pursuit for Olivia starts. Sam, Cas and Dean start running through the house to try and find Olivia, hoping she hasn’t yet shifted again before they find her. That shot they used to open the door must have been enough to alarm her.

In the meanwhile, they gave Lauren the instruction to get inside the car and find a gun with silver bullets. Dean tried the best he could to explain to her where she had to find it, and after that he could only hope that she would be on time.

He decides to stay with Cas – just to be sure that the guy stays safe, since he’s not that used with handling guns. They move back to the first floor without lowering their aim. Nobody speaks, and even their footsteps are silent as they move forward. She could be anywhere, and she could be anyone.

After ten more minutes of looking around, the sound of multiple gunshots alarm them both. The two hurry towards the hallway, making their way to the stairs to get to the source of that noise. And when they do, they find Lauren, still keeping her gun up, and Olivia’s body lying on the ground with a few bullets buried in her chest.

 

* * *

 

 

_That morning_

 

Dean wakes up earlier than usual that morning. Castiel is lying next to him with his arms wrapped around him, and for a moment, all Dean does is stare at him. He can’t help but study his Angel’s beautiful and sleeping face. It’s a rare sight that he has never seen before. Softly, he passes his hand over Castiel’s cheek in a soft caress. He wishes he could, for once, see what _he’s_ dreaming of. Is it a random dream about being at the beach? Or are there, again, kids running around in that same house Dean has been dreaming of for a while? He wishes he could tell, because being so separated from him in this way is really excruciating.

Suddenly, there’s a light knocking on the door, which startles Castiel awake despite its softness. The Angel flinches, and then he starts rubbing his eyes to try and get the sleep out of his system.

“Whosat?” he asks without really opening his mouth to speak. Dean just grins up at him before getting out of the bed.

“Just stay there, babe, I’ll check it out,” he tells him. Castiel nods and turns around again in an attempt to continue sleeping. Dean tries his best to be extremely quiet when he opens the door, finding Sam standing there at the other side, fully dressed and looking kind of panicky about something.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Dean asks. He takes a step outside to close the door behind him, but regrets it immediately when the cold weather from the season passes over him. Sam takes a quick look towards the room he came out from before he starts talking.

“I need to speak to you about Lauren,” he tells Dean. And Dean had known that this would come, because Lauren has been on his mind as well that night – no, not in _that_ way.

“About the fact that she effortlessly forced seven bullets in that shapeshifter’s body?” Dean asks. He crosses his arms and leans against the wall.

“Dean, it was like she was a totally different person! Even _I_ was scared of her,” Sam throws back with the palms of his hands lifted upwards. He can understand his brother, though; who would have thought Lauren could be such a cold blooded killer?

“Ah, well Sam, if you tell her that you might never get into her pants.” Dean wiggles his eyebrows in an attempt of lightening the mood. At Sam’s sour face, he realizes that this really isn’t the right time. Of course, when it comes to Sam, it never is.

“Quit your joking, Dean,” Sam snaps at him. “Tell me the truth, was Lauren a hunter before you met her?”

And Dean honestly has no idea. She’s been a lawyer after graduation, that’s about everything he knows about her. She doesn’t talk a lot about her youth, but Dean thinks that mostly has to do about the fact that she was bullied for being Hispanic.

“Well, she did tell Cas that she went shooting with her father when she was a kid; maybe there was an accident back then and the shapeshifter triggered that memory? Who knows, Sam!”

And honestly, there isn’t much more to add to that. Okay, so she apparently has enough anger in her to successfully shoot a shapeshifter about seven times in a row – in its chest. Heck, when Sam had returned from the death he shot that Jake-guy about a million times too before he was finally done. Even Dean has done his fair share of killing in that exact same way. And let’s not even talk about Cas.

“What more do you want me to say, Sam? So we won’t take her on any more hunts with us, I can agree on that, but let’s not forget that most hunters aren’t that touchy feely as we are against their monsters. Some do it the rough way, and so it turns out, so does Lauren. Ain’t nothing wrong with that at all!”

Sam remains silent, then. His hand goes to his chin and he rubs it in that typical pensive way of his. Dean just doesn’t want to worry about Lauren too much, though. At least now he’s sure she can hold her own in a fight, though she prefers doing it the dirty way by shooting first and asking questions later. Over time, she will learn to let go of that anger that is apparently locked inside of her.

As if on cue, the door of Lauren’s and Sam’s shared motel room opens up, revealing a very sleepy Lauren with her hair standing in a way that shouldn’t be. Dean smirks upon her appearance, and he can catch the blush spreading on his brother’s face when he too sees her standing there in just a tank top and her pajama pants dropped real low on her hips. Yeah, Lauren has a nice body and she knows it. He wiggles his eyebrows at his brother, who just frowns back at him in confusion. Oh, sweet, oblivious Sam.

Dean, of course, knows Lauren’s techniques. With any other guy standing outside, she would at least have had the decency of putting on a bra underneath that tank top. This appearance in front of them is just her way of getting a guy she’s interested in to get interested in her in return. Not much effort to be put in that, though. Sam’s reaction is enough proof of that.

“Now if you two won’t mind, I want to spend some more time with my husband, maybe even get him laid, who knows,” Dean adds  only to make his brother even more embarrassed about the situation. Dean slaps him on the arm in a brotherly way, and then moves to the door of his own room. He winks at Lauren, and she just smirks back at him. Dean can catch the subtle thumbs up she throws his way, and after that he’s inside.

He finds Cas still lying in bed with the covers thrown away from him, meaning that it must have been hot underneath. He has one hand resting on his chest and the other one underneath his head, and his eyes are closed, though Dean is almost a hundred percent sure the guy is still awake.

Still, he’s as quiet as he can be when he moves towards the bed. Cas doesn’t move or makes any indication that he’s heard him, and even when Dean settles down on the mattress to lean over his husband, there’s no sign of him being aware of Dean’s presence. Huh, maybe he _is_ asleep. Well, then it’s time to wake him up.

Dean is hovering above Cas on his hands and knees, and with all gentleness he lowers his face just above the Angel’s chest. He purposely breathes out against his skin. Then, after a few seconds, he lets his nose brush all over Castiel’s chest, allowing his lips to stroke there as well a few times.

“HmmmDean, sleepin’,” Castiel mumbles out sleepily without opening his eyes. It only makes Dean smirk while he presses a long line of deep kisses across the guy’s collarbone. He lifts up one hand to caress his side.

“I’ll promise it’ll be worth it,” Dean whispers back. Then, suddenly, an arm wraps around his waist and the both of them roll over until the Angel is lying on top of him with his eyes still closed. He moans out tiredly and makes no movement of leaning up, instead lying down on Dean with all his weight.

“Shit, you’re heavy,” Dean gets out with limited breath. He tries pushing Cas off of him, but Cas is unmovable. His face is rested between Dean’s neck and his shoulders, and Dean can feel the soft caress of his lips against his skin. He can’t help the shudder that passes through him from the tickling.

“Then you shouldn’t have awakened me,” Castiel teases. After a few more seconds he finally takes pity on Dean and puts his weight on his hands resting next to Dean’s shoulders. His eyes connect with Dean’s, which for that moment is just enough for the both of them. Dean doesn’t even know he’s lifting up his hand until it appears in his line of vision and his fingers are stroking against Castiel’s cheek.

“We don’t have to do this,” Castiel tells him carefully after a few more seconds. Dean knows immediately what he’s talking about.

“But what if I want to?” he answers truthfully. They’ve been apart for almost three months, and haven’t slept with each other since he disappeared. Dean just misses the contact between them so much.

“It won’t be the same with my grace blocked out,” Castiel adds in hesitation. Dean just shakes his head.

“I don’t care, I want _you_ , not your grace,” he assures the Angel, and then, finally, their lips meet in a kiss. It’s hard and intense, as if Castiel is afraid to let go of him. Afraid that he’ll disappear again. Dean, in turn, holds on to Castiel’s back tightly for the same reason. He has a little trouble breathing with the Angel putting his weight all over him again for a moment, but luckily that only lasts for a few seconds before Castiel pulls back.

Without taking his eyes off of Dean he pulls off his t-shirt over his head and throws it away further in the room. Dean’s first instinct, of course, is to cover up his upper body. His arms come to shield away his naked chest, but at that moment, Castiel holds on to his wrists to stop him.

“Don’t be ashamed, my love,” he tells him gently. Dean stops resisting and allows Castiel to lower his arms next to his head. He still holds on tight to them when he copies what Dean did earlier, pressing a long line of kisses across Dean’s collarbone. A soft breath escapes from Dean at the sensation. His legs bend up and he can’t help his toes curling.

Cas goes lower and lower, but then immediately skips to underneath Dean’s breasts, sinking down to his bellybutton. Only after a few more minutes and finishing off kissing all of Dean’s belly does he go back up.

He kisses Dean’s right breast first, doing it so softly that it almost feels like an itch that he can’t reach. The feeling of people touching his breasts isn’t unknown to him, but it’s the first time that it’s done with so much affection that Dean has to turn his face away and close his eyes.

One of Castiel’s hands let go of Dean to start working on undoing his pants right after he starts showing his love to the other breast, hovering his mouth right next to it for a moment, as if he’s trying to let his breath reach the hunter’s heart. Now, Dean has to bite his lip to keep himself from making any other noise. He barely even notices it when he’s naked all of the sudden. One moment his pants are on, the other they’re off. He doesn’t even care, because this is too good.

With one arm now free, he reaches up to wrap his hand behind Castiel’s head, pulling him back towards his face to continue their kissing again. It’s much slower this time, though it still manages to make Dean’s heart beat crazily inside his chest.

Dean notices Cas is still wearing his briefs when he feels his clothed groin rub up against Dean’s hip. So, he detaches his hand from behind the Angel’s head and moves down until he gets to the piece of clothing. He starts pulling at it, but fails miserably that after a while Castiel’s lips leave his from laughing too hard.

“Don’t laugh at me, my arms are not as long as they used to be,” Dean mutters angrily while trying to keep himself from pouting – which he still fails at, sadly. Castiel pulls back completely then and shakes his head. He quickly takes off the last remaining bits of his clothing before throwing them away into the room, probably joining the discarded pants and t-shirt on the floor.

And now it’s all more real. They’re really going to do this again. Dean smiles at that thought, because it has been too long. The both of them meet again in another kiss, but now there’s a hand – Castiel’s hand, to be clear – reaching between them, finding itself at Dean’s pubic region.

Oh, Dean should probably have shaved? Holy crap, he totally should have. This is so embarrassing! Cas should totally be disgusted right now, right?

“Dean, stop overthinking this,” Castiel whispers against his lips. Dean then notices that the Angel hasn’t moved his hand away. Only then does he realize that Cas had never really cared about that either when he was still a man. Oh, Dean’s just an idiot, then.

“Sorry,” Dean apologizes. Castiel just rolls his eyes – which, hey, he learned from him! He wants to throw a remark at him, but then at that moment Castiel’s fingers seem to find their intended target. Once again Dean bites his lip to keep himself from shouting. Or groaning. Or making any other noise that might be considered embarrassing.

“Dean, did those other women-“ Cas starts,  but Dean stops him.

“Don’t,” he tells him, not wanting to think about that at the moment.

“Did they ever… you know…”

Dean drops his head back on the pillow and looks at the ceiling. What is the guy trying to say?

“Did they… _penetrate you_ … in any way?” suddenly comes out. Dean’s eyes go wide and he looks back up right away. The shaking of his head is wild and frantic and his cheeks are so red that the sight must be funny to others.

“What?! _No_ , Cas! Nothing has ever… in there…” Dean stutters out, remembering how a few girls tried to pry their fingers there but were always stopped by him. “I guess I always knew that had to be kept for somebody else.”

Castiel’s face softens then, and there’s a light smile forming on his face which Dean can’t miss. He then throws his head back when he realizes he’s literally a virgin, which apparently means that their first time like this might hurt a little.

“Don’t worry, I won’t do anything you don’t want to do,” Castiel assures him with a soft caress on his face. His other hand continues what it’s been doing, then, but after a few more seconds he stops again. He scrambles back a little bit so his hand has a better reach, and his eyes are stuck on Dean’s.

“Tell me if it hurts you in any way,” he tells him in all seriousness. Dean nods lightly before waiting for Castiel to start. At least he’s glad they always carry their tube of lubricant around. When Castiel fetches it, he tries to get settled a little. He puts the pillow in a more comfortable way, pushes away the blanket that is stuck underneath his back, and then takes a deep breath when he hears the tube opening up.

This is it, they’re finally gonna do it.

The first touch of Castiel’s finger startles him so hard that the Angel pulls back again immediately.

“No, no, no, it’s okay,” Dean tells him. “Just cold.” That’s a lie, and Castiel probably knows it. Just because it’s not the same location doesn’t mean that the slightest touch from anybody else down there makes him remember Alastair’s torture any less. It has gotten better over the months, sure; it’s not like he’s screaming and panicking this exact moment. But that doesn’t mean that he won’t shudder or startle upon the first contact.

“It’s alright, my love,” Castiel whispers against his lips suddenly before pressing another soft kiss. Dean kisses back in an attempt to hold on to something when the first finger breaches inside. There’s a tear swelling up in his eye, and he barely manages to hold back a sob. He can do this, he’s strong enough to do this.

“It’s alright,” Dean repeats after Cas in a whisper.

“Dean, you have to relax or it will keep on hurting,” Castiel tells him without moving that one finger at all. Dean shakes his head and wills his heart to slow down. He needs to be relaxed, needs to calm down. He makes small huffs of breaths and stares right into Castiel’s eyes to stay anchored to the present. He’s not in Hell. Hell is closed down, Sam killed Alastair. Cas saved him from that place. Cas, there’s only Cas. Cas is everything he needs to think about. Cas. Cas. Cas…

Cas seems content with the result then because the finger moves again, forward this time until he’s all the way inside. It hurts less, but it still feels weird. It almost feels wrong but right at the same time, and Dean can’t really say why. He huffs out another breath when Castiel moves the finger out again only to push it back in.

“Is this okay?” he asks him, and Dean nods. It’s bearable, though only a _little_ disturbing. He can get over that, though, because other women must feel the same thing and they enjoy it well enough. He just needs to get used to it, is all.

“It’s fine,” he tells Cas. Their lips collide again, softly, gently, until, after a few minutes, another finger tries to join the first one. Dean once again bites his lip to prepare himself from the first breach, but nothing happens. Cas stopped moving altogether. In surprise, Dean looks up at him again, only to find him looking down at him in return.

“Are you _sure_ , Dean?” the Angel tries again.

“Cas, please, I need to get past this once in my life, and after that things will be a lot easier!” Dean almost shouts in frustration. “Am I sure? No. But do I know I want to do this with you? Yes. Now quit asking, I’m as sure as I’m ever going to be in this position, so better get past this for the first time so I can be even surer afterwards.”

For a moment, all Castiel does is stare. He breathes loudly and he barely blinks until he shakes his head.

“Dean, this is not a task to-“

“It’s not, okay?” Dean sighs and closes his eyes again to escape Castiel’s stare. “It’s just… let’s just say this first time is an obstacle we have to get through before we can have many more nights of amazing sex.”

Castiel blushes then, which is kind of ridiculous since he’s got a finger currently resting _inside_ of Dean. Typical.

“O-okay, Dean. We’ll do this together, then,” Castiel tells him. Dean resists rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, who else am I going to do this with?” Dean asks him, in all seriousness. Now that he’s got his memories back he has no more desire to sleep with half the female population of the planet that has reached a certain age. Castiel is the only one he wants to do this with, whether he’s a man or a woman. He only wants Cas, nobody else.

Castiel seems to see that Dean is sincere because he smiles at him again. Then he looks in a warning, and Dean is prepared when the finger start moving again; pumping in and out until that second finger gets inside effortlessly as well. Dean is a lot more relaxed all of the sudden, which he’s thankful for.

The preparation goes along effortlessly. The memories of Alastair have reduced almost completely, and by the time Cas has eased about four fingers inside, the strange uncomfortable feeling has finally shifted into a good one.

It takes a little more time to adjust when the fingers are out again, and instead Castiel’s length is poking in. Dean once again feels his heart speed up in a slight panic, but with a few more soft kisses from his Angel, he manages to calm down again, which makes him relax and allow his husband inside at last.

“I’m with you, my love,” Castiel tells him while waiting before pushing in. Dean nods at him. He concentrates further on staying calm so the slide will go easier. Castiel readjusts himself for a few seconds, and then he pushes.

A gasp escapes from Dean’s mouth, quickly followed by a moan the moment the Angel is completely buried inside of her. There’s just a slight pain at the sudden fullness, but it’s bearable enough. Dean keeps his eyes pinched shut while he passes his fingers over Castiel’s arms, his side, his face... All of it to keep on reminding himself that he’s safe inside the arms of his Angel, his husband. His love.

“Ah, Cas,” Dean finally breathes out. There’s another small kiss, but no movement coming from Castiel’s hips. He’s so still that for a moment Dean is afraid the guy fell asleep on him. That would be awkward.

“Is this okay, Dean?” Castiel whispers then, revealing that he’s very much awake. Good. Dean nods wildly when he finds himself unable to speak anymore. He moves his own hips a little bit to get comfortable again, causing for the Angel to let out a shaking breath. Then, at last, he starts to move as well.

They go slow, so incredibly slow that Dean, for a moment, has the urge to tell him to move it along or else he might fall asleep. But he wouldn’t doze off on Castiel. This means too much for him. He lifts his hand again to rest them on Castiel’s cheek, their eyes never leaving.

Eventually, Castiel speeds up; thrusting his hips in a faster pace. Dean can’t help the small moans escaping from his mouth, and he would have been embarrassed if Cas didn’t make the exact same noises. What pair they are. When Dean smiles, Cas smiles as well.

“Cas, I’m-“ Dean begins, unable to continue because of another sharp thrust. Castiel nods, though.

“Me, too,” he whispers out.

So close, _so close_. Just a few more thrusts and then-

“Hello, Castiel.”

Dean literally pushes the Angel off of him the moment he hears the extra voice in the room. The voice that wasn’t supposed to be there. Castiel all but falls from the bed from the sudden action. Dean just grabs for the covers to get them over his naked body. His heart is still beating fast, but this time for a completely different reason.

“What the _Hell_!” Dean calls out angrily. His eyes settle on a female figure standing in the room. She has long brown curls and a serious face, though it’s unfamiliar. He has no idea who this is.

“Hannah,” Castiel breathes out heavily. He holds up a defending posture in front of Dean, which is completely unnecessary. “Why are you here?”

The woman doesn’t seem bothered about the position she just caught them in to, but at least she has the decency to turn her gaze way from their naked bodies. Dean groans in embarrassment and throws his face in the pillows. He feels a shift in the cover, probably meaning that Castiel at least thought of covering himself up a little.

“I need your help with something,” the woman says.

“At least tell me it’s important enough to interrupt sex,” Dean counters from where his face is resting against the pillow. He moves his head slightly so he can catch her, still standing where she first was. She looks a little confused.

“Oh, you were in the middle of- Dean Winchester, is that you?”

“In the flesh.” Okay, so she appears to be a lot confused. At least, enough to be caught by surprise at Dean’s sudden genderswap. She throws a worried look towards Castiel, who just shrugs in a way to explain that he himself has no clue. Nobody has, and they’re no closer to finding it out either.

“What do you need my help with?” Castiel finally asks when the silence gets a little bit _too_ uncomfortable. There’s a hand, probably his, that comes to rest on Dean’s scar on his shoulder. Dean doesn’t know if it’s reassurance or an apology for inquiring about the mission.

“There are a few Angels who have gone rogue. They wanted to live on Earth, like you do, but they killed a few of our brothers and sisters along the way to get their freedom. Heaven wants them punished for their crimes.”

Great, it’s going to be one of those missions where Cas is gonna stay away for a few days, maybe even a week or two, fighting off Angels who are apparently batshit crazy. He might want to hold on to that memory of their interrupted sex-session, because they won’t be having any more soon.

“Why aren’t you asking Inias? Or Muriel?” Castiel tries. “Gadreel and Abner are around here somewhere as well, I’m sure they’ll be more of an assistance than I will be.”

Of course Castiel is talking about his blocked Grace. Hannah will have a better chance at defending herself with a fully-powered Angel by her side instead of a half-human-one. Dean finally looks up again to see Hannah’s face. There’s something in her expression that he recognizes, and he thought that he wouldn’t like it, but instead it makes him smirk. So _that’s_ why she wants Castiel to join her. Poor girl.

“Inias and Muriel are already on another mission, and Gadreel and Abner have refused to help. The other Angels just want to do _everything_ they get the punishment they deserve, which in their eyes means death. I can’t trust them not to kill these Angels before we can bring them to court.”

“So that’s a thing now upstairs? Court?” Dean asks curiously. And what the hell? Is he actually _asking_ that while he’s lying naked under a sheet? He barely recognizes himself anymore!

“It is, yes,” Hannah answers. “Will you help me, Castiel?”

Silence. The Angel doesn’t dare to answer right away, Dean understands why. He reaches out his hand to grab Castiel’s arm, and he squeezes it a little bit.

“Can you give us a minute? Just… wait outside or somewhere you won’t hear us or something,” Dean asks her in return. Hannah nods shortly before disappearing completely, leaving Dean and Castiel alone in the room. Finally. Though it’s not like they’ll be able to continue what they started.

Castiel turns to him at the exact moment Dean leans forward, and both press their foreheads together while keeping their eyes closed. One of Castiel’s hand strokes over his cheek, and Dean entwines their fingers together. They’re breathing in sync, not making any other noise other than the air they let out. Then Dean smirks again.

“We can’t ever catch a break,” he tells his Angel in a whisper. Castiel chuckles lightly, which is good.

“I won’t go if you don’t want me to,” he assures him. Dean just shakes his head.

“This Hannah, she good? Did she help you in any way before?”

“She helped me multiple times. She also cured my cold when I was sick.”

That’s news. He got sick? When? That must have been back when Dean had been missing, right? How could he not know about this? He decides not to ask, though. Not yet at least.

“You go, then,” Dean tells him. “They’re still your brothers and sisters. Sam and I will be alright, I promise.”

They share another long look before Cas leans forward again to press his lips on Dean’s, stealing a short but meaningful kiss. After that he breathes out heavily and lets him go so he can get dressed again. Dean sees him search through their duffle bag, and he realizes that Cas will need that on this mission of his.

“Just take my clothes out of there, babe. You take the bag, you’ll need it more than I do,” Dean tells him. He stands up as well, but instead grabs the clothes that are scattered around the floor before retreating to the bathroom so he can get cleaned up. The shower is short and he barely enjoys it. As soon as he’s out, Cas is already fully dressed in faded jeans with the fabric ripped at the knees, and a black t-shirt that Dean recognizes as a very old shirt he doesn’t wear anymore since his arms are – were – a lot muscular now. Or, back when he was a man. Anyway, the shirt was a little bit too tight and left nothing over to people’s imagination, so he stopped wearing them.

“I will call and text you,” Castiel tells him when he notices Dean standing there. The duffle bag is lying on the bed and he’s currently busy putting on a leather jacket Linda apparently bought for them. She’s a saint, because the view of his Angel in those clothes is not something he would have want to miss.

“You can text me whenever you want,” Dean tells him with wiggling eyebrows, hoping that he would understand what he’s saying there. The blush spreading on Castiel’s face is enough answer to that. “As to calling, every evening, when you get to a motel or anything. I will be waiting for your calls.” Dean then walks forward to kiss him again before Castiel leaves the room to join Hannah on their _mission_.

An hour later, Dean, Sam and Lauren are in the Impala, making their way back to the bunker.

 

* * *

 

_Missouri  
a few days later_

The woman had noticed. In the last year, the signs had been clear enough, but only after hearing some confirmation from some survivors did she really believe it. Part of her is happy about it; it’s a lot less messy to work out her plan with them gone, but still, she could have used the help from Hell, using the demons’ powers to get herself back at the top. There had been _so many things_ about a certain King of Hell, and she would have loved to manipulate him into helping her. With Hell closed, there aren’t many possibilities to do that.

Still, she has to work with it, to improvise. Firstly, she needs to find some apprentices, probably better to take people who have been in contact with demons in their past so she doesn’t have to explain all the ‘supernatural creatures exist”-fact to everybody, since less people started believing in them over the years. Idiots, they have no idea what’s lurking around anymore.

Secondly, she needs to build a name for herself, which had been easier before all demons were banished to Hell. She wasn’t known as a skilled demon-killer for nothing. Witches all over the world knew her for the spell she created to eliminate those damn creatures.

She’s been going through places where demon-activity has been confirmed, but each time there was nothing there to be found. The possessed were dead or moved on with their lives, and the possible survivors are not really around in the neighborhood to tell her about it. Still, she doesn’t give up, which one day leads her into a brothel called _Raul’s Girls_ at 1482 Willis Boulevard. But, if she’s correct, the ladies inside are not really _Raul’s girls_ anymore. She knows about it; the demons using those ladies to convince their customers to offer up their soul for the mere payment of sex. It seems that, even though the demons are gone, the ladies have decided to stay in the business. There’s another man in charge, apparently – only human, but he’s wicked enough alright to be considered _Hell_ -material.

When the woman walks into the building, she catches the man – she doesn’t know his real name, but he hides under the code name of _Big Papa_ , and if there’s a reference, she doesn’t get it (also, she doesn’t care about his name) – arguing with a few of his girls. There’s a brunette, sitting on a chair with her arms crossed and looking uninterested, while the man holds up a few clothes that the woman recognizes as lingerie. Oh, how things have changed over the years.

The hooker notices her first when she gets through the door. The girl is sitting up straight and has her eyes opened wide while the woman walks inside further, holding her hands up in the air in habit. She tries to make sure her long black dress doesn’t get dirty from all the nastiness on the floor. This is worse than the farmer’s nasty overflowing pighouse back in the village she was born in. And it smells horrible in here, though at least not like feces but unhealthy amounts of alcohol and sex instead.

When the man notices her as well, he looks truly unimpressed.

“Hey, lady, I think you’re in the wrong place,” the man tells her with a rough voice. The woman can’s help the smirk as she talks.

“This is _Raul’s Girls_ , isn’t it?” she asks with that typical Scottish accent she’s always had. The hooker stands up the moment she speaks. “Clever name, by the way, though I don’t see this _Raul_ around?”

“Guy disappeared,” the girl says, receiving an angry glare from the man in front of her.

“Sorry, but we’re not hiring at the moment,” he bites out. “And, no offense, but even if we were, you’re a little… old. Unless you’re here as a customer?”

Oh, the idea in itself makes the woman frown in disgust. “No disrespect to yer girls, but I’d sooner die than do business of any kind from an organization previously ran by demons.”

The girl opens her eyes in surprise, though the man just seems confused at the moment. That’s clear enough for the woman to know who exactly is aware of what went through here a few years prior. With just one flick of her hand and a few more muttered words, the man doubles over, quickly puking out the contents of his stomach on the floor. Ah, what more is that filth added to this dirty floor, right? The woman smirks at the sound the man makes. So helpless, so useless. It’s almost adorable.

The moment she sees a second girl coming up from the other room she finally remembers again why she’s actually here. The two stare at the figure in the middle of the chamber, throwing up everything he’s got and leaving out that nasty smell.

“Ladies, ye may want to stand back, this will get messy,” she warns the girls, and at that moment, the man falls on the ground in his own puddle of vomit, while the stuff keeps on coming out of him. It takes a few more seconds before he’s finished, and only then does she lower her hands a little bit.

“Hardly the most appetizing process in the world, but making bastards like him pay always makes me hungry,” the woman says finally. The girls stare at her with their mouths open, both in shock and something that looks like awe. The woman makes a movement to walk away, but she throws one last glance at the girls. “You comin’? I mean, Ye’re welcome to stay here.”

It is no surprise that they follow her outside. And then, Rowena smiles.

 

* * *

 

 

_Meanwhile, in the Bunker._

Okay, so that cellphone has been going off like crazy these past few days, and slowly Sam is finding himself going insane. They’re at the table, all of them, eating one of Linda’s delicious lasagna’s. Crowley looks like he’s scowling, which isn’t new. Kevin is happily talking to Lauren, and Linda keeps on chastising him every time he calls out a word she doesn’t like. It’s just such a domestic moment between them, which is probably why Sam is so annoyed each time that _ping_ comes out of that little device lying on the table next to Dean’s plate.

“Dean, have you even been listening to _anything_ I just said?” Sam snaps at his brother when it all just becomes too much. Dean barely looks up at him from his screen after receiving _another_ message.

“Huh, what?” he calls out absent-mindedly. Even now he’s still not listening. Hopeless.

“Let me see,” Lauren calls out from next to him, and before any of them really know it she snatches the thing out of Dean’s hands and keeps it out of his reach. Dean struggles for a short time, but he suddenly stops after Lauren literally tells him to stop it. It raises everybody’s eyebrows, including Lauren’s. Then, she lowers the phone to hold it in front of her face, and she starts ticking on the screen.

“There is a thing called privacy, you know,” Dean mutters out while taking another bite of his lasagna. Lauren snorts, Sam does, too. Since when has Dean really cared about privacy? Whenever he and Cas were having sex, the whole damn bunker needed to know about it according to his older brother.

“Wow,” Lauren suddenly says while her smirk grows even wider. Okay, so now everybody at the table looks curious. Lauren just keeps on reading more and more, and she snorts more often than not, while Dean’s face turns red most of the time. After a few more seconds, the hunter even pushes his plate aside and drops his head on the table in embarrassment.

“What is it, Lauren?” Kevin asks. He’s reaching out his hands in an attempt to take the phone of her. Lauren laughs silently while handing over the phone to the Prophet. It doesn’t take long for Kevin to widen his eyes and quickly hold out the phone as far away from him. Now, completely curious, Sam tries to grab for it, but he fails at it when Crowley takes it instead.

“Okay, let’s see,” the ex-demon says while lifting his head a little bit as he tries to read. He takes a deep breath to indicate that he’s going to read it out loud.

“Oh, please, no!” Kevin groans out, copying Dean’s pose and pressing his head on the table. Crowley just ignores him.

“A-hem,” he gets out, clearing his throat before starting. “ _Can’t get enough of you baby. Gonna rip your clothes off when you return and pick up where we left off the last time.”_

Error! Extreme error!

Crowley just keeps on reading as if it doesn’t bother him. Dean makes a weird noise where he’s seated. Lauren is literally laughing her ass off. Kevin has his fingers pressed in his ears and starts singing _Itsy bitsy spider_ to mute out the noise. Linda is shouting angrily at Crowley. Sam just notices it all, but finds himself frozen to the spot.

Wait, what is happening again?

Oh, right, Dean has been sexting all day long under their noses, and now Crowley is reciting all those messages.

“Let me see those,” another voice suddenly says. One that doesn’t belong in there, but still sounds familiar enough that nobody pulls out a knife to attack the newcomer. Standing behind Crowley, Gabriel is reaching out for the cellphone and pulling it out of his hands, causing the man to shut up at last. Gabriel has a serious face while she reads through them, and Sam _really_ doesn’t want to know what is all written in there.

“Hmmm, you have some good ideas, here,” Gabriel says quietly, but at this moment, nobody really cares about the messages. They’re more concerned as to why she’s here in the first place.

“Eh, Gabriel?” Sam tries, seeing how the girl suddenly looks up from the screen. She’s handing the phone back to Dean, who hides it inside the pocket of his jacket before anybody else can take it from him.

“Why is Castiel not here?” she asks. She sits herself down next to Dean – in Castiel’s spot – and starts eating from his lasagna that has been pushed aside. She eyes everybody intensely, but the person that looks the most uncomfortable is Crowley. And… is Kevin blushing?

“Another Angel asked for his help hunting down a few of their brothers and sisters that killed a few other brothers and sisters upstairs to get downstairs. She walked in on us having sex, which was really awkward but she didn’t even seem to care about it. Also, she kind of has a crush on him – to which Cas is completely oblivious about, which is so totally adorable by the way – and now I kind of feel like I should be jealous that he’s on a road trip with another Angel in a hot female vessel, but I find myself instead enjoying the fact that Cas doesn’t even have a clue about it, because I know that his innocent little ass won’t cheat on me like I cheated on him back when I lived with Lauren, despite the fact that it wasn’t completely cheating since I didn’t know him and all.”

This whole evening is a train wreck. Dean is out of breath when he finishes, and Sam catches him pressing the palms of his hands against his forehead as if he’s just realized what he just said. Gabriel just smirks instead.

“Thank you for telling me the truth, Dean,” Gabriel says. Dean glares at her, and that’s when Sam realizes the Archangel must have put some sort of truth spell on him. Now she’s just being mean. Dean glares for a few more seconds, and then, with a face completely red, he storms off, leaving the room with everybody staring at him. Let’s be honest here, that’s the most truthful Dean has ever been in his life, which is saying something.

“Gabe, why are you here?” Sam asks after a few more moments of silence. Gabriel swallows down another bite of Dean’s lasagna. Linda starts picking up the empty plates and moves to the sink to start washing the dishes.

“Because, phase two of the Prophecy has to happen real soon, and I wished it could have been today but I’ll have to settle for tomorrow apparently, since baby bro isn’t here and all.”

At the mention of the Prophecy, Gabriel turns to look at Kevin and she grins up at him.

“Ah, you’re here, too! Long time no see, buddy!” she calls out loudly. Kevin just blushes a little more and then stands up to help his mother out with the dishes. Then, Gabriel turns back to Sam with a bored expression.

“Listen, want to make yourself useful? There’s a witch doing some crazy spell work about here, making people puke out their soul and killing them in the process. All the victims were in places run by demons, which could be the connection between the murders. Take the handcuffs, take the ex-king, go fetch your brother, and get her out of the way before she’ll do something that might, I don’t know, open up Hell again?”

“Wha’? Why do I have to come along?” Crowley sputters out in true disbelief. Gabriel rolls her eyes.

“Because your demons opened all those places in your name, using them to make more deals than before. One of them was a brothel, if I’m correct.”

Crowley literally looks shocked at the mention of the brothel. It’s almost a funny sight, but Sam knows better than to laugh at this moment. There are other things to care about at this moment, like the Prophecy.

“Forget about that for just a moment,” Sam interrupts them. “You said phase two of the Prophecy? How many phases are there?”

Gabriel stays quiet while literally counting on her fingers. “Hmm, I’d say there are about 6 phases. The last phase normally has to start twenty-one years and two months from now.”

Is the Prophecy going to take _so_ long, then? Twenty-one years? That’s extremely long. Dean’s going to be, what, fifty-nine by then? Is he going to have to stay a woman for that long? What even is this Prophecy? Why can’t they know more? All the questions keep on going through his mind, and he doesn’t realize until a few seconds later that he’s spoken out all those questions out loud. Gabriel sighs before putting down her fork.

“Yes, the Prophecy is spread over many years, Dean is indeed going to be fifty-nine by then, and no, he won’t have to be a woman for that long. I can’t tell you the specifics of the Prophecy just yet, but in a few weeks I can, and then you’ll all understand.”

That’s the most they’ve gotten out of her since she first showed up. At least it’s something, right?

“So there _is_ a specific reason why I’m a woman?” Dean suddenly asks from the door opening. Nobody even saw him come in. He’s leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed in front of him. The blush has now completely left his face, but he looks truly pissed off to say the least.

“Oh! Who cares! At least they didn’t start up a brothel in your name!” Crowley groans out in frustration.

 

* * *

 

 

_Meanwhile, in Montana_

Their mission is going horribly.

Okay, no, maybe not horribly. Maybe catastrophically is more the term that fits in here. They did manage to find the Angels – Isaac and Idina – but it had ended with both of them getting stabbed to death after going after Castiel.

_You killed_ hundreds _of us to be with your humans_ , they had shouted. And Castiel has to admit that they were right. And that bites at him.

To make it even worse, he hasn’t properly slept in almost three days, meaning that he’s literally running on caffeine right now. He needs to stop at a motel real soon before he crashes the car he stole a few days prior.

“Why are we stopping?” Hannah asks after Castiel parks the car. He’s seen the sign to a motel a few minutes before, but had been too tired to share the information. It would have been easier if they could have just flown there, but if Hannah were to fly him anywhere, Azrael would have been made aware of him helping her, and Hannah would have been punished. It seems like things are getting stricter upstairs which could probably be why more and more Angels are trying to escape.

“I need to sleep. My Grace is blocked, I’m not fully Angel anymore,” Castiel mutters out. He gets out of the car quickly enough and moves towards the trunk to get the duffle bag out of it. A little taken aback, Hannah gets out as well.

“That is why you were still in bed when I came to ask for your help? Because you had been sleeping?” she asks in confusion. Castiel had forgotten how little she knows about being human. Her trips to Earth back in the days have been many, but of all the others, she’s been the slowest to catch up. He doesn’t blame her for it, though, because he can see that she’s really trying.

“No, Dean and I… we were having… we were engaged in sexual activities.” Oh, and he’s been with humans way longer, obviously, since now he finds himself uncomfortable at the mention of him sleeping together with Dean, while he didn’t really care about who he shared the information with back at the beginning of the relationship. His times on Earth have changed him so much.

“Oh, that’s what you do when you go to bed, then?” Hannah asks in confusion. Castiel just shrugs, then.

“Normally, yes,” he admits. Then he finds himself at the reception of the motel, where a bored-looking teenage girl is sitting with her phone in her hand. “Excuse me?” he asks when she doesn’t look up at them.

“Yes?” she asks in irritation.

“Eh, one room, two queens, please,” he asks. He doesn’t want to pose as Hannah’s husband or anything, but they still have to pretend that she needs sleep as much as any other human. The girl throws him an unimpressed look after taking in both of them, and after letting him sign his name she hands him the key to their room.

He’s so tired that he’s barely even noticed Dean’s messages stopped coming. He should probably ask what’s wrong, but it’s probably the lack of answers from Cas that made him stop sending things to begin with. He’s just too tired to really do something about it.

He throws himself into the bed without bothering to take his clothes off. Behind him, he hears Hannah closing the door.

“Are you going to bed, now?” she asks him. There’s something in her voice that Castiel can’t place right now. He nods hard enough for her to see, and then forces himself up to take off his clothes. His shirt gets thrown on the floor quickly enough, but he struggles with his pants. The belt doesn’t come loose, and he nearly falls when trying to get his legs out of the pipes. Eventually he manages, standing there in just his underwear. He isn’t ashamed about his state of undress, though. It never bothered him anyway, though he knows it might bother Dean. That’s why he leaves on the shorts.

He turns towards Hannah to tell her goodnight. His eyes widen when he sees her. Naked.

“Hannah, what are you doing?” he asks her carefully. Hannah looks down at her naked form for a few seconds before staring back up to him.

“You are going to bed, and you normally engage into sexual activities when you go to bed. There is nobody else here so I thought…”

Castiel forces himself to turn away. So she’s even more clueless than anticipated. He curses himself for not clarifying that he only has sex with Dean, not just with the first person that comes along. And she’s just so unaware of it all.

“Hannah, can you – can you put on some clothes, please,” he begs of her while keeping his head turned away. He wouldn’t have been bothered by her nakedness, per se, but it’s more what she’s implying with it that does it for him.

“I don’t understand,” Hannah objects.

“I’ll explain. Just… put something on.”

And that’s how, a few minutes later, Castiel finds himself sitting on the bed with Hannah seated in front of him with eyes wide. They both have their legs crossed underneath them and they’re holding hands, which is necessary to make this work.

“Okay, now link your mind with mine,” he tells her. Words just aren’t enough for her to understand, he realizes. She really has to _feel_ it in order to understand it. And linking their minds for a moment, so far, is the only way for them to do that.

Though it’s impossible for Castiel to do this himself, Hannah is able to penetrate his mind with ease. He can feel her inside his head, and he welcomes her.

“Okay, now pay good attention. I’m going to explain to you what it is to be in love, and with our minds linked, you will be able to feel what I feel for a short period. Are you with me so far?”

He’s aware that Hannah nods, though his eyes aren’t open to see it. He returns the gesture and starts with his little lesson.

“Now, try to think about our brothers and sisters for a moment.” At that moment, Castiel gets mixed emotions coming from Hannah’s mind. There’s happiness – the same happiness he always felt towards his brothers and sisters before he fell – but also sadness. He can see the flashes of Angels betraying other Angels, killing for no good reason. He sees images of Angels talking about him, about the fact that he shouldn’t even be considered one of them anymore. He feels indifferent towards that, now, but he can sense Hannah’s reaction as if the emotions were his own.

“Now how do you feel about humans?” he asks, trying to move past the memories of Heaven. Instead, he gets this strong urge to learn more, this itching interest in the little humans walking on their father’s Earth, and the first thing he wants to do is to just leave Heaven behind and go and blend in with them. He can’t help the smile when he realizes just how enthusiastic Hannah is about humans.

“I’m going to show you some of my own emotions, next. Be careful, now that I’m almost human, my emotions are a lot stronger than yours. You must tell me immediately if you get overwhelmed.”

Hannah nods again, and Castiel decides to start with something simple. So he thinks of Sam Winchester, brave and strong. He thinks about how he admires the man, and how he has come to respect him. He thinks about the strong brotherly bond he shares with him, how he’s sure Sam would do anything for him. He can hear Hannah gasp for air in surprise, and the grip to his hands gets stronger. A small smile appears on his face.

“I have come to see Sam as a brother now. I am his family, he is mine. This is how I feel when he’s nearby.”

And with his feelings he means that knowledge that he’s protected, that somebody has his back. Sam is the person who explains things to him whenever he’s done something wrong (again) and angered Dean. Sam is the one who allowed Castiel to cry back when Dean had disappeared.

Up next, he brings up the thought of Hannah, Inias, Gail, and many others of his brothers and sisters that have stood by him during his short time back in Heaven after Naomi. He thinks of the camaraderie between them – though it’s stiffly, it’s still there. The trust, the admiration he feels towards them.

It’s quickly followed with a sad wave of memories, starting with Balthazar, Uriel, Samandriel, Anna… He thinks of the grief he’s felt after their death, and especially the strange emotion he felt from Uriel’s betrayal. And after a few images of Angels he’s mourned, there are the Angels he felt the most anger towards; Lucifer, Raphael, Michael, Naomi, Azrael. The short wave of pain he feels towards his banishment seems to be too much for Hannah. She lets go of his hands and breaks the connection, and when Castiel looks up at her, she has her face turned away.

“No more,” she mutters out. Castiel can understand it, but he needs her to understand that that pain is something he still has to live with. The feeling to have his wings, but not being able to get back home.

“Apologies, Hannah. But I haven’t shown you what I wanted to show you, yet,” Castiel explains. He holds out his hands again, and the Angel in front of him takes them hesitantly. He doesn’t need her to ask to rebuild the connection, and before he knows it she’s back inside his mind.

“I will skip the other things and show you want I really want to show you,” he assures her. Hannah nods again. That’s it, then, her permission. And so he starts with the very first time he’s laid eyes on Dean. Hannah squeezes his fingers when she realizes they’re in Hell. They’re completely surrounded by fire, and Castiel is fighting off demon after demon to get where he needs to be. Next to him, Balthazar is wildly swinging his blade as well. Uriel is holding out his hand to smite somebody. Lost souls are screaming out in fear, but they pass them by. There’s just one soul they need to rescue, the others aren’t important.

Hannah gasps again when, in his memory, Castiel sees Dean for the first time. He’s standing in front of a rack with a woman’s soul in front of him. She’s begging him to stop, to not become the monster that the demons want him to be. And Dean never answered her, because Castiel found him, and he got there first. And so he made his appearance, told Dean not to worry, that he would bring him back to his brother, and at that moment, his darkened soul lightened up again, so brightly, that every dark shade disappeared right away.

“I didn’t know it back then how I would ever feel for him. But, at that moment, I knew there was something special about him,” Castiel explains, and he jumps forward a little bit with the timeline. There are small memories of Dean smiling at him, spending time with him, sharing short touches – mostly on accident. And the squeezing in his hands gets stronger the closer he gets to the present.

When he thinks back of Purgatory, of him trying to stay away from Dean to keep him safe, he remembers that, back then, he realized that the feelings he had for Dean were more than what he thinks. He couldn’t place them, back then, and he’s sure Hannah can’t place them, now. But Castiel knows better, after all those years. So he explains.

Now he jumps forward some more, thinking of that evening that changed everything. The conversation he had with Dean, right after Gail disappeared with her bow.

_“You have any idea what she’s on about?”_ Dean had asked, trying to go for the clueless-act. Back then, Castiel had done the exact same thing.

“ _I do not know what her meanings are, no,”_ he had told Dean. After that they had remained quiet for a few more seconds. Then, Castiel had spoken again. “ _Dean, if you didn’t want me to go, why didn’t you tell me?”_

_“Because you wanted to help your family. Who am I to stop you?”_

And Castiel hadn’t known what to say to that, so he had said nothing, instead. They were both still standing exactly where Gail left them, both of them unable to move to anywhere else. Castiel had caught the blush on Dean’s face.

“ _You think we should try it?”_ Dean had suddenly asked, then. And even now once again his heart starts beating faster. There’s a light smile spreading on his face, and he can feel Hannah’s lips go up as well.

“ _I think we should. You know, before we might regret it,”_ he had answered, thinking of what Gail had told him before disappearing before them. He remembers how he and Dean had looked each other in the eyes for long after that, before Dean finally reached out his hand to take Castiel’s in his own. And that had been it, nothing more.

The next memory he thinks of is his first kiss with Dean, that time when Charlie had been visiting. And next there’s the first time he had sex with Dean, though he goes through that one quickly because he doesn’t want to linger too long on that. Same thing with the first time they _actually made love_. He does stay a little longer at the memory of him admitting his love to Dean for the first time. But he skips the fight that followed afterwards. Then there’s Dean proposing, their actual wedding. And then, the pain he felt after Dean disappeared. And that pain had been enough for Hannah to once again let go of the connection and gasp for air, though she doesn’t really need it.

“That is love, Hannah. The good, and the bad.”

The Angel in front of him shakes her head. “Why would you choose to go through such pain? Why would you choose to suffer like that?”

Castiel just shrugs. He _didn’t_ choose it. Not at all. It’s just a part of the package, as Dean would say.

“You do it for the good, Hannah,” he explains to her. “When you truly have feelings for someone, you don’t want to keep it in. You want to be with that person – or Angel – no matter what. You take the bad things and you face them together. That’s the only way you can get through that.”

“And what should I do if I _think_ I have those kinds of feelings for somebody?” Hannah asks curiously. Castiel can’t help the sudden yawn that comes out of him. The shock of Hannah’s sudden state of undress has completely disappeared and now his exhaustion is right back;

“Try to find out if they’re real or not,” he tells her. He rubs his eyes for a moment to get the upcoming sleep away for a little longer.

“How do I do that?” Hannah asks curiously. Once again, Castiel shrugs.

“I would suggest talking to them, but most humans just… kiss to figure it out.”

And that’s when Hannah’s lips are suddenly on his own. He’s too slow to react, too slow to push her off of him right away, and honestly, too shocked as well. She kisses him softly, pressing a hand on his cheek and trailing her lips over his own. Castiel can just sit there, literally taken aback from what just happened that, for a moment, he can’t move.

She presses another kiss on his mouth before pulling back, and her blue eyes bore right into his own. She looks curious, but there’s also something else in her eyes. He thinks it’s longing. Their faces are still very close, and the moment he’s aware of her breath brushing his skin does he pull back, jumping off the bed immediately to get some space between them.

“Hannah, don’t,” he gets out. He barely dares to look at her. How could he have been so blind about this? It had been right in front of him, and it just passed him!

“You told me to figure it out, I just decided to do it the human way,” she tells him like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Then again, it probably is, since she doesn’t really know better.

“I love _Dean_ , Hannah,” he clarifies. “I love him with everything I’ve got. I would die for him, I would steal for him, I would even have taken a female vessel for him if he had wanted it. Whatever your feelings are for me, I can’t offer you anything in return since…” He can’t finish his sentence. Hannah looks down at her lap in shame – which is the first time he’s ever seen that look on her – and wiggles her fingers together.

“Can I… Can I talk about it, then, instead?”

And though Castiel is at the verge of passing out from exhaustion, he still finds himself nodding at her.

 

* * *

 

 

_Men of Letters, HQ  
Many  hours later_

Dean isn’t sure whether or not to call these last few hours a disaster or not. In any way, they have a new addition in the bunker, more specifically in their dungeon. He hates every second that witch is spending inside these walls, but then, when he had been on his way to kill her with his knife, he couldn’t have foreseen that Crowley would suddenly shout out ‘mother’ for all of them to hear.

So here they are now, a little bruised from the previous fight between the witch and the hooker she cursed to go after them. Poor girl didn’t make it.

Dean is sitting in the main room with his arms crossed over the table. He’s most certainly not pouting, or scowling. He’s just… _thinking_. About _why it was a good idea to bring that bitch inside!_

“Oh, come on, Dean, we couldn’t just kill Crowley’s mother!” Sam had countered when they came up with the idea. They had both looked at the worried Crowley, staring at his mother with big eyes. At that moment, Dean would have preferred the guy still a demon. At least then he wouldn’t even have given a shit about her in the first place.

“Why not? He hasn’t ever thought twice about killing off others before! Think about Kevin’s girlfriend? Or that torture he brought Alfie in?”

Anyway, his reasoning hadn’t worked (Crowley’s humanity means that allowing them to kill off his own mother was a no-go, despite her being a horrible parent to him), and now he finds himself feeling unsafe inside the place he calls home. Cas still isn’t here – though he had told Dean he would be back in a few hours after catching up on sleep, which means he could come home any minute – and then there’s still the fact that he’s the subject of a Prophecy that is going to take twenty-one years to be fulfilled! To say he’s slowly going crazy is mildly put.

There are some thing that the witch told him before they caught her. Things he can’t keep out of his head. Because she _knew_ Dean wasn’t supposed to look like this.

“ _Oh my, there’s a mighty enchantment thrown over you_ ,” the woman had said in a thick Scottish accent and a nasty grin on her face.

Dean had just ignored her. Why would he even listen to her at all? She’s a witch, and she’s crazy.

But then she had continued.

“ _I’m sure that, whatever they cast on you, I can reverse it. Just need to ask, little lamb.”_

And heck, didn’t Dean just consider that for a moment. But it wouldn’t help a little bit, because Gabriel would just turn him back again and again, and there would have been an unnecessary amount of magic performed on him.

“You look like Hell, Dean-o,” the young and playful voice of Gabriel’s new vessel calls out from behind him. Dean doesn’t bother to turn around to face her, because he’s just so tired.

“In case you didn’t know, there’s a witch in the dungeon,” Dean snaps at him. Gabriel walks forward until she’s in his sight, and he sees her with her hands raised in the air, innocently.

“Hey, she needed to be locked up before she managed to open up the Gates of Hell in her quest for power,” Gabriel offers in defense, but it’s just not enough. She still drops down on the chair in front of Dean. There’s a faint smell of strawberries in the air, which Dean suspects comes from the Archangel in front of him.

“Whatever,” Dean mutters out. He takes out his phone again to check if Cas had sent something else. Apparently there had been some trouble with Hannah’s vessel – her husband finding them when she paid with her credit card. Dean doesn’t really understand what happened, but he does know that Cas is alone now, and that Hannah has left her vessel to free her and return to Heaven. He can’t say he’ll miss her, partly because he didn’t know her, but also a little bit because apparently her crush on his husband had been genuine and she _kissed_ him for crying out loud.

Well, at least, Cas is honest about it.

“Your sweetheart coming home soon? It really can’t wait any longer,” Gabriel suddenly calls out impatiently. She’s tapping her fingers on the table with such an annoying speed that it almost drives Dean crazy.

“Listen, buddy, I’m tired of you being all mysterious about this. _What_ exactly can’t wait any longer?” Dean bites at the Archangel in front of him. Gabriel frowns for a moment, but then lifts up her head in surprise, and a small smile forms on her lips.

“Finally,” she mumbles out, and then she snaps her finger quickly before disappearing. The moment she’s gone, a strong wave of heat passes through Dean, making him breathe loudly and heavier from the sudden hotness he’s suddenly feeling. Did that jackass just give him a fever? What good does that do?!

Dean is so hot that he already takes off one of the many layers of clothing he’s wearing. It barely helps, though. There are drops of sweat already forming all over his body. His heart is beating faster and faster, and there’s this sudden… strange feeling. A craving.

Not long after that, Castiel comes barging through the door, looking equally troubled as Dean feels. His face is flushed red, and he’s in the process of taking off his top coat.

“Dean!” he calls out after the hunter, and then he’s running down the stairs. Dean is running, too, just to meet him halfway. Their hands reach out for each other, and the moment they’re close enough, both of them are literally clamping on to each other. Cas’s lips connect with the skin in Dean’s neck, and Dean is working on unbuttoning the first few buttons of the Angel’s shirt so he can nip at his collarbone.

“Cas,” Dean moans out. He throws his head back to allow his husband more space. He feels his hands move towards his ass, and before he knows it Cas is lifting him up from the ground and moving them through the hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, Hannah left (hurray if you read the vague line that said that) and Rowena joins the story. (though her part will appear a little weird for now. Apologies for that, too. I have a vague idea of what I'm going to do with her, but I still need to work out the details about that!)
> 
> Sorry for the strange way I finished the chapter. It was almost 40 pages long on my word-document, so I had to cut it short. Also, yeah, up to phase two of the Prophecy. I guess you can guess why exactly Gabriel did what she did, right?
> 
> Anyway, liked it/hated it? Feel free to let me know how you feel. Suggestions are always appreciated. Receiving comment on this story always manages to light up my day no matter how dark it is. (Reminds me that I got my Always Keep Fighting t-shirt a few days ago! Hurray!!)
> 
> To all you readers, I love you for even putting up with me and this story for as long as you have already. Don't be shy, you're always welcome to say hi in case you feel lonely or have this sudden hatred for where this story is headed! 
> 
> You can always find things about the story on destielallaround.tumblr.com/tagged/theprophecy


	17. I'm flattered but I don't think my husband would like that

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo sorry for the two month delay! I had this chapter halfway written when my newly found betareader gave up on me halfway the second chapter, not literally saying but at least implying that I suck at writing and that she couldn't take it anymore. After that, I thought it would have been better to just stop writing completely if I suck that hard.  
> Eventually, about a week ago, I started writing again, and right now I have three more chapters (or two and a half) written down for you, including this one.  
> I'm sorry if it sucks, I am in search of a new beta-reader but I don't really know where to find one.

_Men of Letters HQ  
November 10th_

 

 

Dean wakes up disoriented.

It’s not that unusual for him, though whenever it’s accompanied with _that_ soreness, it mostly means he has a heavy hunting-day behind him. That, or he just had mind-blowing sex all night long, which hasn’t happened for a long time since he’s actually getting too old to have sessions of marathon sex.

In this case, there’s not even a single memory inside Dean’s mind that could explain to him why he’s feeling this way. Though he has the luxury of having Castiel lying right next to him, his whole body is tense, and his head is aching in his search for any clue that could tell him what exactly went on inside this room.

“Hmmmmpff what happened?” Dean asks, slowly growing frustrated at the lack of memories inside his brain. He tries to turn around from where he’s lying, but when he’s pulling his legs up there’s that sudden pain in his muscles making him quickly abort his intention of sitting up. Why do his legs feel like he’s been riding a horse all week long?

“Mmmdean?” Cas’s low voice grumbles out from next to him, and from the sound of it he appears to be just as confused about it all. He does manage to turn his face toward Dean’s, and with a foggy expression he looks up at his husband, though Dean isn’t really sure if Cas can actually see him.

“When did you come home?” Dean asks, more to himself than to the Angel really, but his brain comes up blank. “Last I remembered, I was talking to Gabriel…”

“I just remember getting out of the car. I don’t think I even parked the thing,” Castiel explains, though it isn’t much better. He does succeed in getting up from the bed, and when the sheets fall off of his shoulders, Dean catches all the hickeys and bruises into his skin.

“What the hell? You look like a punching bag and a lollipop all in one!” Dean ignores the pain and pushes himself up to get a better view, and Castiel, too, seems to be taken aback from what the state of his body is.

“I don’t remember where these came from?” he mutters out in confusion. He scratches his hair for a moment, and then looks around to pick up his clothes lying on the floor. “Why aren’t you getting up, Dean?”

The hunter feels his face color red, and this time he forces his legs up to his chest no matter the sting of pain that comes with it.

“Because I feel like I’ve been on the back of a horse for days! My legs are probably even more bowed!”

Castiel shoots him an annoyed look, unable to laugh at Dean’s comment. Good, because there’s nothing to laugh about to begin with. Dean allows Castiel to pull the covers away from him, revealing his own naked and bruised body underneath it.

“Eh, I think I’m going to get a shower, first,” Dean mutters out when he sees the remnants of what probably happened last night still stuck on his skin. He feels dirty, but mostly because he just _can’t_ remember what caused his current state of… stickiness. Castiel seems to agree, though. He stops himself from putting on more clothes and hands Dean a towel from their closet. Dean gets out of the bed and wraps himself in the towel quickly enough – he doesn’t really want to walk around naked through the hallways, okay? When they get out of their room, the lights are out and it seems like everybody else is still sleeping.

They find their way to the bathroom quickly enough, and they jump into the shower farthest from the door. The water warms up in no time, so they’re underneath the hot stream in just mere seconds. They take their time inspecting each other’s bodies to check for any lasting damage. Dean is shaky on his legs, and after a while he even has to sit down on the shower floor because he can’t hold himself up. Castiel just follows him down, and they wash each other off in silence then. There’s no heat in their actions, just gentle touches and words. Dean even gets to press his face against Cas’s chest when the exhaustion just gets a little bit too much, and the Angel allows him to stay there. He even keeps his hands in Dean’s hair to offer comfort, though neither of them are sure _why_ exactly they are in need of it in the first place.

After their shower they find out that it’s only three in the morning. They should probably just go back to bed, try to catch some rest before they go and find out what just happened the night before. Cas spoons up behind him when they are in the bed. Dean grabs the Angel’s hands in his own. They share a few short but loving kisses, and then they go back to sleep.

Next time Dean wakes up, his cellphone tells him that it’s nine in the morning. There are no windows in the room, so he always needs to check the hour instead of being able to trust on the light coming from the outside.

The two of them get themselves to the kitchen again with difficult movements. Dean’s body is still aching, though slightly less than earlier, and even Cas moves around more stiffly than normal. As soon as they reach the room, he _feels_ the angry glares thrown at them. Oh no, _what_ did they do now?

“G’morning,” Dean yawns out while rubbing his eyes. With troubled steps he manages to get to Lauren’s fantastic coffee machine to get something up for him and Cas. The Angel just sets himself down at the table and presses his head back on the wood.

“This isn’t funny anymore, guys,” Sam snaps at his brother from where he’s seated. Dean’s head turns back in surprise, and even Castiel has bothered to look up. The married pair share a short thoughtful look before silently agreeing that they have no idea what the man is talking about.

“We don’t-“ Castiel gets out before Sam interrupts him again.

“You guys weren’t even trying to be silent, were you? You’ve been at it for six hours! _Six hours!_ This is not a porn-studio, okay? _”_

They’ve been going at what for six hours? Probably not sex, right? Dean knows he isn’t fit enough to even have a session of two hours, let alone six. Sam is probably just exaggerating.

“I have to agree boys, last night wasn’t something I really wanted to hear at all,” Lauren adds suddenly. She doesn’t sound angry, but tired, at least. She’s drinking from her own small cup of coffee, which reminds Dean that he was putting up drinks for him and Cas. He turns back to the machine to work on that.

“Seriously, I can understand you need sex once in a while, but if you won’t keep the noise down in the future I’m gonna castrate both of you in your sleep… eh, when you are a man again.” That last part was meant for Dean, though he barely notices it. It does make sense though; the ache in his legs, the exhaustion all over his body, the hickeys and bruises on both their skin.

“Sam, I swear, the last thing I remember was talking to Gabe, and then I felt this sudden… _heat_ all over me, like I was burning up. After that, I woke up in the middle of the night. I have no idea what happened,” Dean swears. He finishes the coffees and hands one of the tiny cups to Cas, who takes his own wordlessly.

He finally notices that Linda, Crowley and Kevin aren’t here, which at least is a _little_ less embarrassing. His hand stays on Castiel’s lower back to give him comfort. Sam looks at them, contemplating for a moment whether to believe him or not.

“So, what, you think Gabe pulled her mojo on you?”

Both the Angel and the hunter shrug for the lack of an answer. They literally have no clue, but if she has something to do with it, killing her is next on Dean’s to-do list. Dean looks down at the table but finds that the butter is missing. He goes to stand up to get it from the fridge, though as soon as he’s back on his feet, his muscles object again.

“Ah! Damn it, Cas! What did you do to me last night?” Dean curses out. He drops himself back down on the chair, deciding to just leave the butter. He doesn’t need it _that_ badly, anyway. When he leans his head on the table again, he feels Castiel’s comforting hand touching his back, stroking up and down to show him he’s there.

“So totally not what I needed to hear!” Sam calls out. There’s a grimace on his face, and Lauren, too, makes a face that shows she’s not really comfortable with whatever is being discussed at the table.

“Shut up, bitch, I’m hurting,” Dean snaps back at his brother. He feels Cas’s lips touching on the back of his neck, but it barely does anything to distract him from that constant ache in his body. “I feel like I’ve been lying in the same uncomfortable position all night. I’m getting too old for this.”

Luckily, nobody says anything more to that. They each _do_ get a slap on the backs of their heads from Linda when she gets into the room after a few minutes of silence. Luckily, Sam starts explaining to her what exactly they think happened, so she doesn’t stay angry for too long.

The pain goes away more and more with every hour that passes. Both Dean and Castiel take a warm bath to relax their muscles some more, and the rest of the day is spent on trying to find any more leads on Lauren’s vampires or any more things about Prophecy’s that have been written that might have anything to do with Dean. Mostly, they’re just trying to trigger something in Kevin’s memories, but so far there wasn’t any success. They did find a few things that might indicate another vampire’s nest, but Dean forbids his brother to go alone.

“Dude it’s a _nest!_ ” Dean shouts when Sam tries to convince him otherwise. They’re at the library at the moment, surrounded by newspapers and the two laptops they own. Both Lauren and Cas are seated nearby, watching how the two brothers are once again finding themselves in another argument.

“So what? I’ve taken out worse than that!”

“Tell me one time you have.”

Sam stays quiet to think for a moment. Dean uses that time to throw Cas a unimpressed look. The Angel doesn’t smile at all – hasn’t even lifted the corners of his lips all day! Guess the guy doesn’t have a lot to be happy about at the moment, and Dean can relate to that.

“I took on Lucifer?” Sam says. Dean lifts up his eyebrows in reaction to what his brother just throws at him. Then he shakes his head.

“No, totally not the same! You were about to throw yourself into an eternal prison alongside with the devil. That was already suicide to begin with. You going after a nest of vampires is _unintended_ suicide, and that’s a big ‘no’ you’re getting from me here!”

From where she’s seated, Lauren seems to be mumbling something, but Dean can’t understand it. Not that he cares, really.

“I’ve gone on plenty of solo-hunts after Hell, Dean,” Sam defends himself.

“You didn’t have a soul! You didn’t care about the things you killed! The _real_ you cares, alright? One of those vamps just has to look at you with big tearful eyes and start talking about how they were changed against their will, and you will decide to let them live!”

“Oh that’s rich, coming from the guy who decided to let Benny live, too! Or that werewolf, Kate? That was your idea the first time, right? Ah, and let’s not forget about Garth-“

“Oh my god, don’t you _ever_ shut up!” Lauren yells out, interrupting Sam mid speech. The two hunters turn at her in surprise with their mouths fallen open. Lauren looks truly terrifying, which really means something. Both of them wisely shut up. “Seriously, it’s like you’re trying to find out who has the biggest stick! I’m sorry to disappoint you, Dean, honey, but you don’t have a stick anymore, so that means Sam has the biggest one.”

Uh, what exactly is she talking about? Dean sees Sam blushing – hilarious. Lauren stands up but keeps her hands on the table, making her bend slightly. She’s wearing one of her typical woolen dresses with turtlenecks, so it’s not like she’s taking this pose to show her cleavage or something.

“Listen, you don’t want to get another hunter,” Lauren points at Sam, “And you don’t want him to go alone,” then she points at Dean. “It’s simple, just take me. I can fight enough to protect myself. Cas taught me how to kill those bastards. I am ready!”

Dean and Sam seem to agree on their hesitation, though. They both haven’t forgotten their previous conversation about Lauren last participation on a hunt. They know she can handle herself, alright, but she’s just… scary.

“Listen, Lau, I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” Dean starts. Lauren shoots him a glare.

“What? Because I’m a girl? Is it, just because I have a vagina that I’m unable to be out on the field? Because last time I checked, you’ve got one, too, and that didn’t seem to stop you from going.”

How could Dean approach this, really? He swallows quietly before he starts thinking about his words, but none come out. Lauren is just staring at him with such an intense glare, and he feels all his defenses giving up on him. With every second that passes, he starts wondering why she shouldn’t go. She’s strong, she’s skilled with a gun, and if Cas trained her, she’s surely skilled enough with a knife to know enough about it. Why _shouldn’t_ she go?

“Okay,” Dean tells her without any control to his mouth. Both Sam and Cas turn to him with a shocked look. He ignores them. Something inside him is telling himself that allowing her to come along is the right thing to do. She’s an adult, he shouldn’t try to be the boss of her. Lauren is a very dominant woman. He shouldn’t try to overpower her at all.

“Dean, what the hell?” Sam sputters out. Dean turns towards him and just shrugs.

“Why _shouldn’t_ she come?” he asks, repeating his previous thoughts. Sam holds up his hands in a questioning pose.

“Why shouldn’t-? Dean, you told me _yourself_ that you didn’t want her on another hunt!”

Lauren pretends to be shocked. “When did such blasphemy take place?” she says sarcastically. Castiel throws her an angry look.

“Oh, I wouldn’t bring up the b-word, Lau. Cas is sensitive about that,” Dean warns Lauren, who then realizes as well that Cas is glaring at her. An apologetic look appears on her face the moment she notices.

Eventually Lauren wins – surprise, surprise, because she always does! Sam seems defeated and just as surprised about it as Dean and Castiel do, but neither of them comment on it any more when Sam and Lauren both go to the armory to get the weapons they need. Dean and Castiel watch them go from where they are seated in the library.

“She always manages to get what she wants, doesn’t she,” Dean thinks out loud. Cas just hums in agreement without adding any comment to it. What more is there to say, anyway?

 

* * *

 

 

_Meanwhile_

“She was a _horrible_ mother.”

Crowley pulls his cup of tea up to his mouth but never gets to actually drink from it. Before it can reach his lips he drops it back down and turns towards Linda Tran.

“Did I tell you the time she almost traded me for three pigs?” he asks, recalling those dark ages when he was still little Fergus, son of a witch. “Three! I was an attractive child, I could juggle! I was worth five pigs, at least!”

He ignores the eye roll coming from Mrs. Tran. She’s just sitting at the kitchen table with him because she’s kind enough to have offered an ear to talk to. And that’s what Crowley’s been doing; talking. There’s a witch in the dungeon downstairs that apparently is his supposedly missing mother, and all she has done towards him is denying that he’s one of hers. He can understand that, he doesn’t look the same way he did back then. He looks even better now. She should be proud of him!

“I’m sure she loved you, Crowley,” Linda assures him. It’s a lie, though. Crowley knows it’s difficult to love him – don’t he knows it.

“I don’t care! Don’t even start about the name. ‘Fergus’. It sounds like a venereal disease, and not the fun kind.”

Now he finally takes the first sip from his tea, only to realize the drink has gone cold. Have they been here for _that_ long?

“If you hate her so much, why did you stop Dean from killing her?” Linda suddenly asks. Crowley looks back up at her again, but the words in his mouth are missing. How can he explain what he felt back then when he didn’t know it himself? All those… feelings… overflowing him. They haven’t been getting better in the past year that he’s been a human.

Crowley shakes his head by lack of an answer, and for a moment it looks like Linda is going to grab his hand for reassurance. She hesitates, though, eventually deciding not to do it. Crowley can understand, though. He’s caused a lot of pain and problems to her family. She’s a saint enough for just talking to him at this moment without wanting to kill him.

For a moment, Crowley’s happy he didn’t. Kill her, that is. He had her locked up, ready to be bait or whatever to lure the little Prophet his way. She was always useful, back then. The demons guarding her had disappeared when they’d be sent back to hell, and Crowley had told the brothers where to find her. For as far as Crowley knows, she’s been here ever since.

“Because it’s your mother, right?” Linda asks. Then she stands up. Her hands remain on the table, and she looks pensive for a moment. “I wouldn’t go in there yet, Crowley. You might want to wait a few more days. I’ll make sure she’ll be fed and all.”

After that, she’s gone, leaving a confused Crowley alone to think of what she just told him.

 

* * *

 

 

Lauren can’t take her eyes off of Sam. The whole ride she looks at him with some faint feeling of fascination and curiosity. He doesn’t notice, however. Or, maybe he does, but he tries to ignore it. Anyway, his eyes are stuck to the road. That’s probably for the best.

“So, tell me about this Gabriel? She sounds like fun,” she eventually asks when they’ve been on the road for about two hours but with no music whatsoever playing on the radio. A girl can’t look at a guy forever.

Sam smirks when she asks her question, so Lauren figures that it isn’t a _bad_ memory – whatever bad is in their world. It even amazes her how easily she has accepted this new life she’s forced to live. It isn’t that bad, at least. Sure, the work might be crap, but there’s a lot of friends and family surrounding which is actually quite endearing.

“We met Gabriel a few years back. She was still a _him_ back then, and we thought she was just a simple trickster. She managed for us to get on each other’s nerves so badly that we had to call in for help from Bobby because we couldn’t get anything done. In the end, we thought we killed her, but we didn’t know back then that she was an Archangel.” There’s still a slight smirk on Sam’s face, but his grip on the steering wheel gets a little stronger for a few seconds.

“How did you figure _that_ out?” Lauren wonders. She can imagine what big reveal that might have been.

“Gabe got us stuck in TV-land, and when Cas sneaked in he told us that she was too strong to be just a trickster. After that, Dean figured it out.”

It doesn’t surprise Lauren that Dean had been the one to come up with the big revelation. He might think he isn’t much, but he _is_ smart. Even from the smallest of clues he can figure out what they mean and what he should do about it. That level of genius even helped her with her cases a few weeks back – she isn’t supposed to break confidentially on her clients, but she had always made sure never to speak out their names to preserve their anonymity.

“Why do you keep doing this?” comes out of her mouth before she can think the better of it. Sam’s head tilts slightly towards her, but his eyes remain focused on the road, luckily. Lauren would rather not die from a car crash before she even gets to those vampire bitches in the first place.

“Keep doing what?” Sam asks in confusion at the vague question.

“Keep saving people without wanting any credit for it in return? Why not just make the supernatural-world public knowledge so people would know how to defend themselves?”

Sam’s face turns cold for a small moment. Then, a short sigh escapes from his mouth. On the road, another car passes them by.

“Because they would be living in a world of fear. It’s better not to know about the monster in the closet instead of being aware of it all the time and having it hold you back from living the life you’re supposed to have.” It sounds like there’s more to it, that Sam is keeping something out of his answer. Lauren thinks about prying, about asking for clarification, but eventually decides against it. All in due time, maybe Sam will one day eventually reveal whatever is bothering him to her.

“So you fight the fight for them?” she asks instead. Sam nods quickly, barely noticeable.

“I haven’t known anything else in my life, Lauren,” Sam tells her. “I was raised in motels by my brother, we didn’t have a childhood or a mother, and most of the time we didn’t have a father either. But when we had nothing, we at least had each other, and the ability and knowledge to save other people. Both of us have tried to escape from it, multiple times, but the business always manages to suck you right back in.”

“Dean tried to stop hunting?” Lauren wonders. She couldn’t imagine that, really. Even when he was living with her, he was restless most of the time. Such a domestic life wouldn’t be something for him. At least, not yet.

“Well… it was mostly a promise I had him made. I was kind of dying, and I told him to go back to Lisa and Ben – a woman he was in love with a while back, though he would never admit that, and her son. I don’t know the specifics about what happened in that year since Dean refuses to talk about it.”

“What happened to this Lisa? And Ben?” Lauren asks, though she’s almost afraid of the answer. Sam’s face is still grim and sad, so apparently this really isn’t the greatest topic to discuss.

“He had Cas remove their memories after Crowley kidnapped them. They don’t remember ever having met Dean at all. I was against that decision, but once Dean’s mind is set on something, it’s difficult to make him reach for something else.” Sam’s eyes go downwards when suddenly a cellphone starts ringing from where he put his. He reaches out for it and after checking the screen he accepts the call. Lauren doesn’t know who it is on the other line, though it couldn’t be anybody else but Dean or Cas, right? Or maybe Kevin or something?

While Sam talks, Lauren tries to imagine Dean living the domestic life with a house and a family. She just can’t get the image in her mind, not only because she’s never seen Dean as a man before, but also because Dean has this obvious issue with cabin fever when he stays put for too long. He always found the smallest excuse to stay out of the house, whether it was that he has to work late in the garage, or that he was going to the bar or even the park on sunny days. Lauren had never questioned it before because there was never really a reason to.

But Lauren remembers that one talk she had with Dean one night when the hunter had come home drunk. Of course she remembers; Dean marched into her room, crying it out in tears, yammering about how he couldn’t have children, how much he wanted them. It was no surprise when he denied everything about that the next day. Still, when Lauren sees him together with Castiel, she can see that there’s something missing between the two; that there’s something they both want, but are unable to have. And that almost breaks her heart.

“What do you mean? Cas, you know Dean won’t like it if you do that kind of research on your own?”

Lauren looks back up towards Sam. The hunter is frowning while he keeps on driving with the phone pressed against his ear. Lauren can’t hear what Castiel is telling him on the other side of the line. It isn’t really her business, anyway.

“No, Cas, I know you feel guilty about Jimmy, it’s good you understand why Hannah left, but just by looking up the Novaks you might get them in trouble again.” Sam slows down the car when it looks like Castiel isn’t really listening to him. By the time the vehicle has stopped completely, Sam’s fingers are pressed against his forehead. “I know there aren’t any more demons, but Cas, what could you possibly do for them?”

Another moment of silence, filled with the breathing noises coming out of Sam’s mouth. Lauren listens attentively with fascination. Despite his slight panic in his voice, his breathing is calm.

“Cas, it’s almost five years ago. I’m sure they’ve moved on. The last thing they need is a powered-down Angel looking like Jimmy knocking on their door, and I’m sure Dean would agree with me.”

Sam turns his head towards Lauren and rolls his eyes for a moment, causing the slight smirk on Lauren’s lips. The moment their eyes meet, Lauren is once again reminded by how beautiful Sam Winchester truly is. His face is sharp, and his eyes are just so intense that Lauren gets reminded again and again why she asked him out in the first place.

“Just think it over first, okay? Discuss it with Dean; if you really want to do this he will help you. Okay, yeah, see you soon.” And then Sam hangs up the phone with a loud sigh. Whatever they must have discussed, it must have been a difficult subject?

“Who’s Jimmy?” Lauren finds herself asking before Sam can even start up the car again. The hunter raises an eyebrow at her question. There’s not a single indication to a smile to detect on his face.

“Angels have to possess a vessel in order to walk on the Earth and communicate with other humans. Jimmy Novak was Castiel’s vessel,” Sam explains with a low voice. He starts driving forward again before Lauren even notices the engine running. “The man had a wife and a daughter, Amelia and Claire. They got attacked when Demons tried to get to Jimmy.”

“So Cas practically just took a father away from his family?” Lauren asks bitterly. Yeah, she likes Cas, but she can’t imagine the pain he put that family through.

“It was for the greater good, back then. He was supposed to return Jimmy after the Apocalypse was averted, but instead they both got destroyed by Lucifer. Castiel came back, but Jimmy didn’t.”

“Holy shit,” Lauren calls out in surprise. “Lucifer? The Apocalypse? I thought you two were just joking earlier!” Now, Sam smirks again, though it’s faint. Ah, well, it’s better than nothing.

“Eh, yeah, there’s a lot we need to catch you up on. I guess it all started with Azazel,” Sam starts, and Lauren listens.

 

* * *

 

 

_A few days later_

Everybody in the bunker felt the frustration hanging in the air. Sam and Lauren successfully managed to stop the vampires they found, but they turned out not to be the ones they were looking for, meaning that they still have to continue their search.

Crowley gets gloomier by the day. Linda keeps on stopping him from visiting his mother in that dungeon, and each day it gets more difficult to do it. They have even come to the point where they have to lock multiple doors leading towards the dungeon in order to keep him away.

Things aren’t getting back to normal, no matter how much they thought it would. Cas is obsessed with the research he’s doing on his computer, despite Sam and Dean’s advisement against it. Sam and Kevin are actually even the only ones that are even doing something _useful_ around here, whether it is cleaning up or even doing more research on Archangels and Prophecies.

Dean wants to help, he really does. It’s been almost more than two weeks since that strange, unexplainable night he had with Cas, and so far he hadn’t felt anything out of the ordinary that could be considered a side effect. At first he even thought he’d was lucky this time around.

But then the puking starts.

It creeps up on him one morning, when he wakes up with an empty place next to him. The spot is still warm, so Cas couldn’t be awake for too long. Dean sits up the moment he feels the lack of Cas next to him, and then he doubles over. There isn’t a stabbing pain, but more that strange feeling that his stomach is turning upside down inside his body.

Maybe he should have stopped after the second burger instead of taking a third one.

 

 

Dean barely makes it to the bathroom, and he doesn’t even notice Lauren standing in front of the mirror with her towel around her body, fresh out of the shower. The first thing Dean does is kneel down in front of the toilet and leaning his head above it so his dinner from last night can get out again.

Ah, that’s nasty.

Dean truly hates puking with all his heart. It’s disgusting, and it manages to keep Dean disoriented for hours afterwards. He startles a little bit when there are hands touching his shoulder, but he can’t look up since another wave of nausea is coming up.

“Dean, are you alright?” Lauren asks in shock. Dean feels ashamed that she has to see him like this, but at the same time he’s happy that he’s not completely alone right now.

As soon as he’s sure there’s nothing more left to puke out, Dean sits up again. There are tears in his eyes, and his breathing is fast and heavy, but at least the turning has settled a little bit. He can’t help himself from resting his head on her shoulder while he tries to come down from the shock.

“That was crap,” Dean tells her breathily. Lauren snorts at the comment. She helps him to get back up again after a few more minutes of just sitting there. He gives her the time to get dressed again and together they go to the main room, where the others are sitting.

“Dude, what the hell was that?” Sam asks the moment they get inside. “I could hear you from way over here! Did you drink again, last night?”

Dean shakes his head and instead moves to the sink so he can clean out his mouth some more. At this point he would even wash it out with soap, just to get that nasty taste away.

“Dude, I haven’t even touched a drink since I came back,” Dean mutters out. He gets himself a glass of water, but wisely stays away from the food sitting on the table in the kitchen. The moment he rejoins the other, he sits himself down again. Before he even drinks from the glass, he presses his face against the table and groans it out in discomfort.

“Wish we could say the same thing about the smoking,” Linda complains. Dean looks up slightly to throw her an angry look.

“Hey, I’ve been slowing down on the smoking, too!” he counters.

“Yeah, because otherwise Cas could strangle you,” Kevin adds. The wise guy. Dean shakes his head in annoyance, but decides to just give up on this conversation. Quitting smoking had been difficult the first time around, so it isn’t going to be easier the second time. Right now he could do with just a small one outside, but he _does_ have to do it sneakily since Cas is so against it.

“ _I didn’t rebuild you completely just to have you die from lung cancer Dean!_ ” he had said. And, yeah okay, he had a point.

Come to think of it, where is Cas?

“He’s in the library,” Lauren says, like she’s just read his mind or something. “Still keeping up that research. You know it’ll get done faster if you two help him out a little bit.”

Both brothers glare at her. They’ve been having this conversation for a few days now, but still nobody wants to help the Angel with finding out what happened to Claire or Amelia. Cas doesn’t know how to do research as well as Dean or Sam do, which is why the guy is taking so long in trying to find some more information on the Novaks.

The next couple of days it’s more of the same. Sometimes Dean wakes up with Cas next to him, and sometimes he doesn’t. There are mornings where he can get up without having the need to spit out dinner from last night, and there are mornings – sometimes even days – where he can’t keep _anything_ inside.

He manages to hide it from the others, though. They’re often too busy with other things to notice anyway. Sam is researching and chatting with other hunters, being the new Bobby apparently and passing along wisdom on how to kill those sons of bitches. When he’s not busy doing that, he’s sparring with Lauren so the both of them stay in shape. There are times where Cas joins them, but more often than not the Angel is stuck in the library, continuing his slow search on the Novaks.

Linda spends a lot of time with Crowley, keeping the man away from his witchy mother downstairs. It seems to be getting better with the ex-king of Hell; sometimes the guy even forgets that the bitch is locked in the dungeon in the first place! And as to what they’ll do to her, well, nobody really has a clue, since Crowley won’t allow them to kill her, but they can’t let her walk loose either.

Kevin finishes translating the Angel tablet, which has resulted in a short visit by Inias when they passed along the news through a prayer. There isn’t much on it that they don’t already know, but Dean and Sam do learn a few things about Angels that Cas has failed to mention, like the hatchlings, the ranks and divisions, and a few spells that would allow them to banish an Angel from their vessel and send them back upstairs with no possible way of ever returning inside that same vessel. Other than that, there are the trials to close the Gates of Heaven, but there’s no need for that since things are going pretty much okay up there. Besides, it would close Cas off from his brothers and sisters for eternity, which also isn’t something Dean wants.

One particular morning, about four weeks after Gabriel’s last appearance, Dean once again finds himself hanging above the toilet. There goes the pizza from yesterday, Dean thinks as he empties his stomach the wrong, nasty way. After he’s finished, he leans back against the wall to catch his breath. So he’s been puking for about a week now, and when he’s not puking, he’s stuffing himself with food. It’s entirely possible that Gabriel might be involved with all this, that this might be the aftermath of that one long night with Cas that neither of them can really remember. But why would it take _this_ long to have effect? It’s practically a month further, they haven’t even found any answers as to why Gabriel did what she did since the bitch never shows up when she needs to.

 _I’m probably dying again_ , Dean thinks as he cleans out his mouth with water to get that nasty taste away. It’s disgusting and horrifying, and with just one short look at the mirror he notices how tired he actually looks. Yup, totally dying again.

He _has_ spent a lot of time lying on the couch watching all kinds of movies lately, but that’s mostly because he’s so tired all the time. Though his muscles have been able to rest from that last time, they still seem to ache most of the time, making his movements stiff. That’s why, when he emerges from the bathroom after ten more minutes, he makes a face when he drops himself down in the chair in front of Sam. Linda is busy filling in a crossword puzzle, Crowley is reading. Lauren is standing in the kitchen, baking up what smells like pancakes, which makes Dean’s mouth water despite the forced emptying of his stomach not even an hour ago.

Sam stares at him, like he knows something is wrong with him. It makes Dean shift uncomfortably in his chair, and he keeps his head turned away to avoid Sam’s gaze. Stupid little brothers, always being worried for nothing.

Dean doesn’t dare to eat anything yet, despite his hunger, and settles with a glass of water, which he’d mostly wouldn’t have to drink either since there has been a day that he even puked out all of the water he’d drank at the time. He’d rather have not to repeat that, at all.

Dean startles when Sam’s cellphone suddenly starts ringing loudly. Everybody at the table looks up at the hunter who is busy fishing out the device from his pockets. He smirks once he sees the name on the screen.

“No way,” he mutters out with a laugh, and then he puts the thing against his ear. “Jody! How’s it going?”

Jody? Dean hasn’t heard from her since… the wedding, probably? She had been there, yeah. Dean can even remember her talking to Bobby for a moment. It had been quite the reunion. He finds there’s a smile on his face as well while Jody is speaking to his brother.

“Wow, sounds like a blast,” Sam says. Dean makes a small waving motion to get his brother’s attention, and then he nods towards the phone. “Uh, Dean says hi!”

Dean sits back then. He notices how his brother’s face falls at something Jody is saying, which can’t be good. Maybe she has a case for them? It could be good to get out of the bunker again for a few days.

“Yeah, uh, right. Sorry about that. I was going to tell you, but I just forgot.” The look he throws at Dean makes the hunter laugh loudly. The idiot forgot to tell Jody about the fact that they found him. She must be furious at the moment!

“Good good, yeah, you know…” Sam scratches his hair in a thought. “Uh, you know, hold on a sec, I’m gonna put you on speaker.”

And with a small beeping sound, Sam puts the cellphone down on the table and everybody looks at it.

“Hey Jody!” everybody greets her.

“ _Hi guys! Now where’s Dean? So I can scold him for scaring us off like that_?”

Dean rolls his eyes and smiles down at the cellphone on the table. “Hey, Jody. How’s Alex holding up?”

But there’s no answer on the other side of the line. At least, not at first. There’s just the breathing sound of Jody coming through the speakers, and if it weren’t for that, they would have thought they lost the connection.

“ _Who are you?”_ she then suddenly asks. Dean and Sam share a short look. Of course she wouldn’t know who Dean was if Dean suddenly sounds like a woman. They shouldn’t be too surprised about that, right?

“Eh, Jody, it’s Dean! Look it’s a long story that we’ll tell you in person one day. All you need to know for now is that Dean is a woman,” Sam explains calmly. Dean has to admire how calm his brother can remain while saying that. Most of the time, Dean just feels like cursing about it.

“Yup, with boobs and periods and all,” Dean adds to it. Sam coughs in embarrassment, and Dean just smirks up at him. Funny how such a _normal_ thing can make his little brother go all red-faced like that.

Jody just makes a thinking sound instead on the other side of the line. Did they convince her, or does Dean need to say something typical _him_ so she’ll actually believe him?

“ _That happens a lot to ya, guys_?” she then asks eventually, however she doesn’t sound completely convinced. It’s clear in her voice.

“Nah, never happened before. But I look amazing, Jody, in case you’re wondering, though I can’t wait to be my handsome self again,” Dean tells her. A light snort comes out from the other side of the phone. Hey, maybe he even managed to convince her it’s him?

“ _Yeah, that’s you alright_ ,” she confirms. “ _And Alex is awesome. Already head of the cheerleading squad!_ ”

Dean frowns up at Sam, who just shrugs in return. That doesn’t really sound like the Alex they know.

“Wow, really?” Sam asks in disbelief.

“ _No, Sam, she smokes grass under the bleachers. But at least she’s not luring men into their deaths_ ,” Jody clarifies. She’s right, at least. Rather have her be rebellious for a little while instead of seducing men to be eaten by vampires. It’s a big improvement.

“Right,” Sam mutters.

“ _Listen, this may not be your kind of thing, but a body was found here this morning, and something had gone to chow town on it.”_

Heh, Dean remembers Charlie calling herself a monster-magnet, but apparently, Jody runs in to those assholes quite a lot as well. Maybe there _is_ such a thing as monster-magnets?

“Uh, was the throat ripped out?” Sam asks. It’s the most obvious question they could ask.

“ _Worse, I’m hearing that all the flesh had been eaten down to the bones. Any ideas?”_

Dean thinks for a moment. He’s been hanging around with Benny long enough to know how vampires behave. “Well, it’s not a vampire,” he tells them. No vamp has ever before feasting on other humans flesh just like Jody describes.

“Yeah, I- I don’t know, Jody. I got nothing,” Sam adds to that.

“Jody, um… we could head that way? Wouldn’t be any trouble at all,” Dean suggests, secretly hoping she says yes. He could use the distraction. In the corner of his eye he can see Lauren return to the table with a plate filled with pancakes. The moment he smells them as well, his stomach starts growling loudly, completely forgetting how it had betrayed Dean not even an hour ago by having him puke out everything inside.

“ _Nah, it’s okay,”_ Jody tells them. Dean snatches one of the pancakes and receives a glare in return, which he ignores. “ _I can handle it. I promise I’ll call if it gets to be something I can’t.”_

“All right.” Sam lifts up the phone back to his mouth as if his words are going to get through much clearer like that. “Well, uh, enjoy the retreat.”

“ _Screw you, Winchester_ ,” Jody bites. Sam chuckles and Dean takes another big bite from the pancake he stole from Lauren.

“Talk soon.” And with that Sam hangs up, ending the call with a smile still stuck on his face. Then he reaches out for Lauren’s plate to steal a pancake as well, but this time she’s prepared. She slaps him on his hand before he can even touch her food, and with a quiet yelp Sam pulls back.

“I’ma swallow a bag of knives if I got to stay inside of here any longer,” Dean says with his mouth full. “Lets—“

“Jody said she was on top of it, Dean,” Sam cuts him off. Dean nods with a scowl on his face. Maybe he should try the puppy-eyes like Sam always does. Dean turns his head all around the room, and then starts rubbing his arms nervously.

He’s even at the point of making a whining sound when Sam finally agrees to come along. The two of them get up right away. Lauren just ignores them, but Linda and Kevin do wave them goodbye, wishing them luck. Right after passing Lauren, the woman leans back in her chair, free from the danger of having the brothers steal her food. Dean smirks a little, and moves forward in all silence until he’s back behind her, and before she knows it another pancake is snatched from her plate.

“Damn it, Dean! I made those myself!” Lauren shouts at him. Dean makes a run for it.

‘But I’m so hungry!” he calls out at her from over his shoulder. His first stop on the way is the library, where he finds Cas still sitting with his face behind the screen of Sam’s laptop. “Better hope you’re not looking up porn, or I’d be quite insulted,” Dean greets him. Castiel looks up with a start, and like always, Dean’s breath catches a little when their eyes meet. The hunter walks forward to take Castiel’s hands in his own, and he tangles their fingers together after pressing a small kiss on Castiel’s skin.

“Sam and I are going to Hibbing for a few days. Want to join us?” he asks. He leans forward to rest his forehead against Cas’s, and he can’t help the smile when he smells the strong scent of coffee on his Angel.

“I think I’m going to keep looking,” Cas tells him gently. “I really need to know, Dean. I know you don’t understand, but it’s just something I have to do.”

Dean nods lightly and moves his lips against Castiel’s for a few short seconds.

“If you find what you’re looking for, don’t do anything without calling us, first, okay?” he asks. A hand passes through Castiel’s hair and comes to rest on the back of his neck, where Dean toys a little bit with those tiny strands of hair.

“I promise I won’t do anything alone,” Cas answers with a slight smile. That’s enough assurance for Dean, and the hunter leaves another, though longer kiss on the Angels lips before letting him go again. “I’ll call you as soon as we get there, okay?”

Castiel nods, and before Dean can walk away he’s pulled back by his husband until he falls down on his lap and their lips are connected again. Without really noticing it, Dean puts his hands on the Angel’s cheeks. Castiel’s hand comes to rest on the handprint on Dean’s naked shoulder, but that strong feeling that normally comes isn’t there anymore. It doesn’t matter, though. That doesn’t make Dean love Castiel any less.

And for a moment he thinks about saying it now. He’s said it to Cas before, but he had been asleep back then so that doesn’t really count, right? He should say it now, just in case something might happen and they won’t see each other again for a long time.

But the words get stuck in his throat, and all he ends up doing is making a weird noise and holding his breath. Castiel just smirks at him.

“I love you, too,” he tells him in a whisper. After that, he finally lets go of Dean so that the hunter can get out of his sleeping clothes and get dressed up for the trip lying ahead of him. And if he’s feeling a little nauseous again, nobody really needs to know, right?

 

* * *

 

 

_An hour later, somewhere on the road_

Dean is once again right on time. The moment he feels the new wave of nausea coming over him, he pulls the car over before Sam can even say anything, and right after opening the door Dean is hunched forward and spitting back out the two pancakes he ate for breakfast before leaving.

“Dean?” Sam asks in concern, but Dean just holds up his hand to quiet him down. Though there isn’t much else in his stomach left, he can’t help the gagging, and in between dry-heaving there are whimpers of discomfort coming out of his mouth.

“Jesus, Dean, are you sick or something?” Sam asks behind him. There’s a vague hint of disgust in his voice, but Dean can’t blame him. It isn’t the most pleasant scent to have their nose filled with. “How long has this been going on?”

"About two weeks,” Dean answers before he can really think about it. So much for not trying to worry Sam and all. He’s absolutely sure he’s going to get a rant now about how Dean is not taking care of himself and that he shouldn’t be reckless like that just because he isn’t in the right body.

“Dean,” Sam starts, sadness thick in his voice. Dean doesn’t know if it’s actual sadness, or rather disappointment. Probably the second, since Dean has done enough disappointing stuff in his life that it shouldn’t be that uncommon.

“I know I know, I don’t take care of myself, I’m a horrible human being and all that. Can we please just get on with this case so we can prevent even more people from dying?” Dean gets out. He closes the door loudly and grabs for the bottle of water he wisely brought along so he could rinse his mouth. He opens up the window when he needs to spit it back out – because no way is he going to swallow that!

“Dean, what are you even thinking, going on this case? You might get hurt?” Sam asks loudly. Dean starts driving forward again and tries to ignore his brother but fails at it miserably. His hands are turning pale from holding the steering wheel so tightly, and he even bites his lips to keep himself from starting another shouting match against the guy. That won’t do them any good at all.

“Shut up, Sam, I’m fine,” Dean snaps at his brother. But that might be a lie since he’s got this ache in his back as well, though that’s easier to hide than puking out everything in his stomach. “But maybe it might be better if we stop a little earlier on the way.”

“We probably should call out for Gabriel, get some help?” Sam tries. Dean just shakes his head.

“You think I haven’t done that?” Dean takes a deep breath to keep himself calm. He feels hungry again all of the sudden, noticing now more than ever that his stomach is empty. “I prayed for her every night, but she never even bothered to show up.”

“So you’re just giving up, then?” Sam asks bitterly. Dean throws him a troubled look. His brother might be right; he might be giving up on this already. But there’s just nowhere for them to go. There are no more Prophecies for them to check out, no other Angel knows of it according to Gabriel, and though God apparently brought back other Angels as well, those haven’t showed up either. There are no books, no psychics. This is completely new territory, nothing that has ever been written down before in any kind of Bible or book. There are just no leads.

“Yes, I might be giving up,” Dean says. “For the time being, I’m giving up, because there’s nothing more I can do other than wait, like Gabriel told us to.”

Sam looks angry at that comment, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. But he doesn’t speak up against it, and instead remains quiet for the next few hours during the drive. Dean even thinks the guy fell asleep for a while. He didn’t comment when Dean made a stop next to a small shop so he could pick up some more food. There’s a lot of cheap product lying there, and Dean takes everything that looks good for him. Even a box of cake goes in his basked, but he’s just too hungry to care.

Dean almost reaches for the pie, but his stomach makes a turn when he thinks about eating that. Suddenly, he realizes, eating pie is the last thing that he wants. He even makes a sour face when he looks at the piece of pastry in front of him.

“You want the pie?” the cashier asks after a few more seconds of just staring. Dean looks up, suddenly surprised that there’s somebody else there, and then he shakes his head.

“No way, I want cake,” Dean says without thinking about it, and he puts the basket down on the counter so the guy can scan the products. When he notices he’s thirsty as well, Dean turns around to find the refrigerator next to him, and he immediately reaches for the beer. Sam could drive for a while, Dean deserves some rest.

 _You don’t want the beer,_ Dean suddenly thinks to himself. His hand freezes mid-air, and for a moment all he does is stare at the stacked cans he was reaching for. He doesn’t want the beer, why would he take that? Then, Dean turns slightly to the left to grab a few cans of orange juice instead, though that has never really been a drink he would just buy like that.

But he wants the orange juice. So he takes three cans and moves back to the counter, adding the drinks to the other products. Dean picks out a few bills of money he earned back when he still worked for the garage, and after everything is put into a bag Dean walks out of the shop. When he gets next to the car, he knocks against the window on Sam’s side to wake him up.

Sam startles and bangs his head against the window. Dean can hear the muffled curse coming from him and he grins.

“Heya sleeping beauty. You drive, I’m hungry!!” Dean says, and he all but pulls Sam out of the passenger seat so he can set himself down instead. Sam stares at him in confusion for a while. His eyes move from Dean’s face to the bag filled with random food that could feed the whole bunker for three days. Dean ignores him, and instead opens up the can of orange juice and starts drinking.

After a few seconds Sam is seated behind the wheel, but his eyes have never left Dean.

“Dude, are you eating cake?” he asks in surprise. Dean looks up for a moment, and then down again to watch the box he’s opened in front of him. His mouth is already filled with the delicious cake, and he barely realizes that he’s supposed to hate eating that.

“Apparently, yeah,” Dean says with his mouth full. Sam just rolls his eyes at him, and instead starts up the car again so they can get to Hibbing as soon as possible.

On the way they don’t have to make another stop, but the moment they enter their motel-room, Dean heads straight to the bathroom when the nausea comes back up. It’s just as nasty as all the other times, and this time there’s Sam with his usual over-worrying that will leave Dean bitter for the rest of the day.

“It’s pretty late to go to the morgue right now, but we could get dinner and—“ Sam starts, but he stops once he sees Dean hanging above the toilet. The hunter is breathing heavily without bothering to look up to know what face his brother is having.

“Just don’t, Sammy,” Dean tells him tiredly. He gets up from the floor at last to find his brother standing there with his eyebrows raised and his mouth fallen open. “No no no, don’t give me that look, don’t go all worried on me. I don’t need that.”

“Dean,” Sam tries.

“Nooo,” Dean whines long and loudly. He washes his mouth again multiple times and then walks past his brother straight to the bed, where he throws himself down face-first with a loud ‘oof’. He can hear Sam walking around in the room, obviously trying to figure out what exactly he should do.

“Maybe I should call Cas?” Sam asks after a few more minutes of silence. Dean decides not to answer. Sam is going to call Cas either way, and if he doesn’t, Dean still will since he promised his husband he would. If only the Angel were here, then at least Dean could get a massage on his back to get it to stop hurting like this.

 

* * *

 

 

_The next day_

The image of the body in the morgue isn’t really one Dean will be able to shake off right away. He’s seen a lot of gruesome things, but this is downright sadistic to say the least. At least now they know Jody wasn’t exaggerating when she said ‘down to the bones’.

So maybe seeing that body had caused Dean to puke his breakfast out, meaning that, whatever disease Dean caught, it’s far from over. And it’s also quite possible that Sam has shouted at him for the lack of taking care of himself and all that. Let’s just say that, though the day has barely started, Dean can already say it’s a terrible one.

Dean is glad that he packed his simple black shoes for this case, otherwise he would have to walk with those dangerous heels Lauren keeps buying for him while he never wears them. What is that woman even thinking? It’s not like the money is growing on her back!

Both brothers are dressed up in their feds-outfit. When they enter the building Jody’s staying at there’s barely anybody that even glimpse at them. When a younger police-officer walks on by, Dean looks at him in surprise that he wouldn’t be even the slightest bit suspicious at these two newcomers.

How lucky are they that Jody is standing close to the entry with another officer – a blonde woman – talking to her. She notices Dean first but doesn’t react until she sees Sam as well. Her eyes widen for a moment, and only when the blonde officer is walking away does she move towards them with her hands up in the air in a questioning gesture.

“I said I could handle it,” Jody complains at Sam. Before she comes to hug Dean, though, she looks him over in silence. “Never thought I would live to see a day where Dean Winchester is a woman.” After that she wraps her arms around him and holds him tightly. Dean smiles fondly the moment he hears her talk.

“Nice to see you, too,” Dean tells her. Then she moves to Sam next to him and she takes him into her arms as well.

“Okay I’m headed to the morgue. You want in?” she asks after the greetings are over. Dean feels the nausea coming back up at the memory of that morning, and a soft cough escapes from his throat.

“Uh, we just came from there,” Sam explains to her. He throws Dean a short, knowing look when Jody asks for clarification. “And flesh was eaten off the second vic, too.” Dean nods, but mostly because he somehow feels like it’s an understatement. Also, he wants to hide his discomfort as best as he can. Jody crosses her arms together while she makes a thoughtful face.

“Anything missing?” she asks knowingly. Dean raises his eyebrows for a moment but then starts to think back to the visit. Did the guy say if there was anything stolen?

“Yeah, his wallet. Why?” he asks.

“Because I think a belt was missing off the first kid,” Jody explains.

“A belt? So, what? We have monsters eating and then robbing people?” It isn’t unheard of, though it really isn’t common. Humans do it, so why would it be strange if monsters do it as well? It’s not exactly a lead, though, since it’s a known thing for humans.

In the background, there’s another female voice talking loudly. “Jodio, you take sugar?” Jody’s eyes go wide and there’s a painful smirk on her face.

“No, no sugar,” the woman in question calls out hesitantly. Dean smirks when the woman back there responds with ‘okeydokes’. She’s fun, and Dean likes her already.

“Jodio?” Dean asks mockingly. Jody just rolls her eyes and sighs.

“It’s, ah, don’t ask,” she mutters out. Dean’s smirk just gets wider, because it’s funny to see how Jody involuntarily made a new friend. But suddenly there’s Sam’s hand against Dean’s chest to get his attention – which, hey, he’s touching the goods, and that’s just a big no-go!

“Dude, you know you’re touching your brother there, right?” Dean asks when he pushes Sam’s hands off him to make it less awkward. Had he been a man, there wouldn’t have been anything weird with the sudden touch, but now…

“Dean, isn’t that… uh… Donna?” Sam asks while checking out Mrs. Okeydokes. The woman is holding up two cups of coffee and she seems to be inspecting them further. When Dean takes a look on her face, he has to agree that she’s vaguely familiar.

Oh!

“Fat-spa Donna! Right!” Dean calls out, but still in a whisper. He smiles at the memory of her because she’s been fun to talk to.

“You guys know my stalker?” Jody asks a little loudly. Sam makes a groaning noise right next to Dean, meaning that he’s unable to say anything in return.

“She nearly blew a case for us last time,” Dean clarifies. Luckily she had been drugged back then so nobody really took her seriously, but it had been a few scary seconds at the time.

“Yeah, I haven’t been able to shake that ray of sunshine since I got here,” Jody says, now a little calmer. Dean and Sam both chuckle. “She’s actually been pretty helpful, but it’s just tough keeping her out of this nightmare stuff, you know?”

“Right,” Sam says. “You mind distracting her while we poke around?”

Jody throws him an unimpressed look and once again crosses her arms together in annoyance.

“You show up and now I’m a babysitter?” she asks, obviously irritated at the idea of having to look after Donna for a while. For a moment, all Dean and Sam can do is stare at her with their mouths fallen open. They don’t really know what to react to that. Eventually, Dean is the one who manages to pull a sentence together.

“Look, she hasn’t gotten mixed up with this crap yet. Let’s just try to keep it that way,” he tries. He knows he’s got her when Jody closes her eyes and sighs loudly.

“Fine,” she mutters out. “But if she tries to show me her sticker collection, I’m out.”

They didn’t see Donna walk up to them until it was too late. The woman is behind Jody with two cups of coffee in her hand when she notices Sam, and immediately there’s a smile spread all over her face.

“Agent Frehley?” she asks happily. She stacks the two cups together and reaches out her hand towards Sam to shake it. Sam answers it with a polite smile. “And you got a new partner? Though you look a lot like agent Criss, are you family?”

“Hey Sheriff Hanscum,” Sam greets her. “This is agent’s Criss’… sister. She’s filling in for him today.” He motions towards Dean. In the back, Jody can’t help but tries to hold back a snort when she looks at Dean’s annoyed face.

“Hello,” he greets her as well, accepting her hand to shake it, too.

“I thought you looked familiar! Well, ain’t this a kick in the pants?” Ah yeah, her adorable expressions are back. Dean is once again reminded at how much he liked listening to her talking and talking all the time. “What dragged you in? And where’s the other agent? Agent… Storm, was it?”

“Uh, well, uh… we can’t talk about it,” Dean mutters out. He isn’t entirely sure if Cas had taken the alias of Storm back during that case, and he doesn’t dare to comment on it. What really can he say? He’s on family leave? He’s sick? He’s busy trying to research the family of his vessel so he can apologize properly and have no further feelings of guilt? Yeah, better stay quiet.

“Oh, yeah! I hear ya,” she says happily. Then she leans forward a little bit. “Anything I can help with?” she asks. Sam immediately shakes his head.

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no,” he stutters out, and that’s just one ‘no’ too many, Dean thinks. “Uh, nothing.”

So Sam’s doing a terrible job of not trying to be suspicious. Let’s just hope Donna doesn’t catch on. Dean stares at Jody for a moment to urge her on. When she notices, all she does is roll her eyes again.

“Actually, Sheriff, I was thinking you and I could go check out the gear expo?” Jody forces out. The smile on her face looks genuine enough, but she does sound a little bit like she’s biting on a lemon. Donna seems hesitant for a moment.

“What about the morgue?” she asks carefully. Jody shrugs lightly to dismiss the idea.

“Well, you know, like you said, animal control will handle that.” Donna still seems hesitant. Her eyes meet Dean’s for a moment, and quickly enough Dean manages a smile at her. She smiles back, though it’s less convincing.

“Well, if it’s cool with you, it’s cool with me,” she finally says, and she hands the stacked cup to Jody. Then she lifts her own drink towards her mouth. “Did hear they’re packing some pretty serious heat in there.” Then she drinks, and waves at the boys before leaving. Jody throws them a miserable look and mouths ‘hurry’ at them, and after that she’s gone as well.

Dean and Sam take another look around but find nothing more than a few cops walking alone, obviously on their way to somewhere. Where do they even start to find the Sheriff they’re looking for?

When he smells something nice a little further away, Dean looks up. There’s a whole buffet table filled with pieces of pie and cake, and his mouth is already watering at the idea of eating the whole thing. Sam barely even notices when his brother disappears towards the food.

“Dean, now is not the time,” Sam complains. Dean ignores him and starts filling his plate with pieces of cake – once again avoiding the pie he normally loves so much, and he starts filling his mouth with the pieces of pastry. Sam turns his head in embarrassment when a moan escapes from Dean.

“This is so good,” he mumbles out without even bothering to swallow down everything right away. Sam obviously tries to ignore him, and instead turns towards a group of agents standing not too far away from them. He pulls on Dean’s arm to get him along. The plate drops from Dean’s hand – luckily it’s just a carton one – and after making sure that his mouth is empty, they start to introduce themselves.

“Hey, there,” Dean says. “Agents Criss and Frehley. Looking for the sheriff.”

Suddenly, three of the four people raise their hands. Dean rolls his eyes. Are these people idiots or are they just acting like it?

“Of.. Hibbing,” he breathes out while trying to control his temper. One man then keeps his hand up while the others drop it.

“That’s be me,” the man says. He looks a little fidgety, even reminding Dean of the nervous Chuck back in the day. He looks so small and scared, for a moment Dean even wonders how the guy made it to become a sheriff in the first place.

“Well, we’re here investigating the attacks over the last couple nights. Just wondering where you’re at on that?” Sam asks. Dean notices that the men are looking a little bit surprised, but the one on dean’s right, the young one, manages to make Dean feel annoyed, mostly by the way he looks at him. Or rather, his chest.

Oh no… please, don’t let there be an admirer.

“On the, uh… animal attacks?” the sheriff of Hibbing asks. Sam nods again in agreement, but the cops still don’t seem convinced.

“Wait, you’re telling me the FBI’s got nothing better to do?” the young one asks. He’s trying to sound tough, but the way his eyes travel over Dean’s body betray him.

“Well, we go where the boss tells us to,” he mutters at him, barely keeping himself from snapping at the guy.

“To what? Arrest a bobcat from Hibbing?”

Dean almost fumes from anger. “Is there a problem?” he asks the guy, and all of them turn their looks back towards Dean, including Sam. Dean just ignores his brother.

“No, no there’s no problem,” the guy says. Dean now reads on his nameplate that his surname is Brice. “You ain’t the first feds to roll through here and come up with nothing. Sure is cute to watch you try, though.”

“Oh, pal, the FBI doesn’t do cute,” Dean deadpans. Sam seems to have enough of it after that.

“Uh, Sheriff Cuse, we are just hoping there might be some surveillance footage of the attacks? Maybe a traffic camera caught something?”

“Right, no sorry. I don’t have a record of it,” the guy answers. Dean notices how Brice eyes the sheriff carefully for a moment, obviously not believing a word the stuttering sheriff is saying. He seems to try and hide away behind his cup of coffee. “Speaking of, uh… Can you keep an eye on the expo for me, uh, deputy? I got to check in with the guys at animal control.”

Brice nods shortly. Then the sheriff turns back towards the brothers.

“Agents, good to meet you. Uh, help yourself to a bear claw.”

And with that he leaves, and the other officers follow him out. The two brothers remain standing next to the coffee machine and another few plates filled with food, which Dean can’t leave lying there. Before Sam can even notice he grabs another piece of pastry and starts eating from it.

“Sheriff’s lying?” Sam asks. When he finds that Dean has his mouth full already he throws him another annoyed face.

“Deputy douche seems to think so,” Dean gets out. He shrugs and ignores his brother’s expression again.

“Alright, I’ll go try and crack the police server, maybe something showed up on surveillance.”

“Yeah, maybe I’ll go crack the deputy.” Or rather, maybe his new feminine charms will. What’s wrong with trying out new methods, right? The guy seemed interested enough, so it might not take long before he gets through to him.

“Right, but this time, try to be a little less defensive of your ‘pretend job’,” Sam urges on, using freaking air quotes at the end of the sentence. That’s just wrong… and only cute when Cas does it. Damn it, Dean needs to stop finding things cute!

 “You know, this badge means something,” Dean tells his brother. His hand reaches for the badge hidden in his pocket, but he doesn’t pull it out.

“I made it at Kinko’s,” Sam counters dryly. Dean stares at him for a moment.

“Yes, you did,” he then says, before turning to get back to Deputy Brice. “Be proud of that.”

He leaves Sam by the coffee machine when he goes on his search for Brice. The guy probably isn’t far, but there are just so many people in uniform that he has trouble focusing on that face he’s only seen for a few seconds.

He gets out of the cafeteria after searching the whole place, and barely notices Donna passing him by, looking a little pale somehow. She doesn’t seem to see him – that, or she’s ignoring him. Dean makes a confused face for a moment, almost reaching out for her to ask if she’s okay, but it’s then that he spots Deputy Brice standing at one of the vendors tables.

Dean decides just to come and stand behind him, getting to the point of coughing for attention when the man suddenly turns his head and grins down at her.

“Agent,” he starts. “Looking for some teeny-weeny handcuffs to slap on some paws?” He pulls up a small pair of metal… somethings, and Dean has to force the smile he throws at the guy. He doesn’t miss how his eyes travel to Dean’s chest, and he feels bitter about it but manages to stay calm despite feeling uncomfortable.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” Dean says quickly, happy that he managed to say _this_ at least. Brice now smiles as well and puts the handcuffs down again.

“Right. How’s that, exactly?” he asks.

“Well, this investigation that my partner and I are here on, it’s – it’s big,” Dean explains. He’s not completely lying, at least. “And, uh… we’re looking for some local help – you know, someone who’s not afraid to talk shop with the big boys back in D.C. Think that might be something you’d be interested in?”

Okay, scratch that, he’s completely lying. But the way the boy seems to keep staring, Dean even wonders if he’s heard _anything_ at all.

“Might be,” Brice answers thoughtfully. “What can I do?”

“Well first of all I’m gonna need you to be totally straight with me,” Dean tells him, unable to help the warning tone in his voice. “Is there _any_ footage of the attack – anything?” _And would you also like to stop staring at my boobs for just a few seconds?_

It’s like the guy is reading his mind. He starts scratching his chin nervously, and turns around to see if anybody is listening along. Huh, this might be a new record for cracking up some witnesses, and Dean doesn’t even know what he did differently this time!

“Sheriff Cuse changed the password on the server yesterday. It’s got the live feed from the traffic camera across the street from where that first vic got attacked. When I went to go check the footage, sheriff said he’d do it himself.”

Dean takes a small moment to think those words through. “Did he say why?” he eventually asks, but Brice shakes his head in negation. It isn’t really surprising, though, but it might never hurt to ask, anyway.

“But, you know, sheriff’s a straight shooter. I’m sure he had his reasons,” the guy then tries in defense for the guy. Dean just nods quickly.

“I’m sure he did,” Dean tells him. “All right, well, I appreciate the cooperation, Deputy, and when I need you I’ll come find you, okay?”

“All right,” Brice says. Then, for a moment, it looks like he’s about to walk away. At the last moment, something seems to stop him, though. His eyes rest back on Dean’s face for a moment too long. Oh no, what’s coming now?

“Is it possible-“ he starts before stopping himself. “Can I maybe… take you out for dinner or something?”

Dean’s mouth falls open from the surprise, but it’s not really like his interest comes as surprising. Still, just the idea of being asked out makes the whole nausea return in just a matter of seconds. In hesitation, Dean holds up his left hand where the golden wedding band is resting safely on his finger.

“Sorry, man, I’m flattered, but I don’t think my husband would like that,” he forces out, trying to sound as friendly as he can, though failing at it. Brice’s eyes open up in surprise, and there’s a red flush appearing on his face, making clear how embarrassed the guy is feeling all of the sudden. Dean could almost laugh at the panic in the man’s eyes.

“Oh, I apologize! I hadn’t seen!” he calls out. Dean just smiles lightly until the man has walked away, and after that his hand travels back to his mouth in reflex as soon as his stomach starts to turn around again.

It doesn’t take long for his stomach to give up, and before he knows it he finds himself running towards the ladies restroom – because by now he has learned it’s not alright to enter the usual men’s room. Luckily there’s no-one inside. He’s kneeling down in front of the bowl, and right on time all the content of his stomach gets pushed out.

He can’t hear the door open over his own sound, so when Jody suddenly starts talking behind him, Dean startles wildly.

“You okay, Dean?” she asks in a worry. Dean looks up at her with red eyes filled with tears, and the question he wants to ask is ‘really?’ but nothing really comes out other than a pained grunt. He closes his eyes as soon as Jody is standing next to him, pressing the palm of her hand over his forehead and trying to check his temperature.

“Yean, I’m fine, just puking my guts out is all,” Dean answers with a heavy breath. Jody’s eye are stuck hard on him, studying his facial expression.

“How long has this been going on?” Jody asks, repeating Sam’s earlier question from yesterday with just the same amount of worry. Dean takes a little toilet paper to clean off his mouth some more, even though there’s nothing left to wipe clean.

“About two weeks,” Dean answers, just like last time. When he looks back up again, he can see Jody still staring right at him. Then suddenly, the hand resting on his forehead travels down to his cheek in a caring, motherly way.

“It’s so weird. I can _see_ that it’s you, you’re kind of exactly the same, but you’re different as well,” she tells him, rubbing her thumb over his cheekbones for a short time. Then the hand travels to his hair, going through them as well. Dean enjoys the feeling.

“I can’t get used to it, either,” Dean says in embarrassment. Oh, he might act like he’s completely cool with everything, but he would go back to his body with no hesitation if he would have the possibility to it. “So is it just coincidence that you found me or were you actually searching for me?”

Jody straightens herself, then, pulling her hand back and trying to get to stand up again.

“Yes, there’s been another kill not so long ago,” Jody explains bitterly. Dean’s eyes widen, suddenly wondering where Sam is. “Say it’s an animal attack, but we know better.”

“Animal attack, my ass,” Dean mutters out. He stands up to get to the sink, filling his cupped hands with water to rinse his mouth a little bit more. “You seen Sheriff Cuse around?”

“Not since the expo,” Jody mutters, crossing her arms together, still studying Dean closely, which really starts to unnerve him right now. So he’s a woman, so what? It’s not like the change is _that_ big, his face is, though thinner, practically still the same, right?

“Yeah, me neither,” Dean mumbles. He tries his best to ignore Jody. He rinses his mouth some more, then goes to the towel to dry himself off, and eventually moves towards the mirror to check if there isn’t anything left on his face. In the meantime, Jody remains quiet, almost unmoving while her eyes track him down where he’s standing.

Then she starts talking.

“How you doing, kiddo?” she asks. Dean frowns a little bit at that, remembering that Jody can’t be _that_ much older than he is. How is she the one calling him _kiddo_?

“Me? Fantastic, why?” Dean asks, though he knows why. Jody’s probably aware of the latest Winchester-news. The chance is that she did her research before the brothers arrived.

“Word ‘round the campfire is you went off the rez a couple months back,” Jody clarifies. Dean just shrugs while keeping his gaze away, not really wanting to bring up those months to _another_ person.

“That right? You and Sam been passing notes during class?” Dean asks bitterly. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Jody nods slightly, still with her arms wrapped around herself.

“Just saying, I make a mean bowl of chowder if you ever need to talk. I know a few things about problems in marriage.”

Dean’s eyes travel to her quickly, and for a moment he studies her as well, finding that she’s completely serious about what she’s saying. Dean had thought that Jodie’s marriage with her late husband had been a good one but apparently he’s mistaking. Who could have known?

“I appreciate that,” Dean tells her with a small smile. Another small minute of silence passes between them, but when Donna enters the bathroom as well with a white face, practically telling Jody that she saw Sheriff Cuse with sharp teeth, all of them move into action, preparing themselves for a fight against the guy.

 

* * *

 

 

Donna takes in the news about monsters quite well actually. She may be a little shaky, yes, and it’s actually quite easy to scare her, but when Jody, Sam and Dean explain everything to her, they don’t have to repeat anything twice for her to understand.

They come to the conclusion that Sheriff Cuse is a vampire after raiding his bedroom in the hotel he’s staying at. Mostly the massive amount of sunblock is indication enough, though they’ve never heard of any vampire literally eating all the flesh of a human’s bones. The Sheriff must be one of those freaky kinds, and Dean would rather have him beheaded now instead of later.

After a little bit of arguing, they agree that Donna goes along with them, despite Dean and Sam’s protests. It’s mostly Jody insisting that she’s able enough to come along.

In the sheriff’s motel room they found a piece of paper with an address on it, which is where they’re headed next. The ride to it isn’t that long, and eventually even revealing an old farmhouse outside of town.

Dean begrudgingly starts handing out the weapons from the trunk, ignoring the look of surprise coming on Donna’s face. While the inside of his trunk isn’t really that fascinating to him, to an outsider it must be a big sign to mass-murderer. Probably the only thing keeping her from running away screamingly is the fact that Jody is so calm about it.

After a small moment of consideration, Dean hands Donna a big knife. It’s one of those they usually use to behead vampires.

“If you’re gonna swing, swing hard. With vamps, head’s gotta roll,” Dean tells her. Donna nods wildly with her eyes open wide. Dean can see her hand shaking, but he can’t focus on calming her down a little bit.

When Dean and Donna join Sam at the window of the farmhouse, they hear the Sheriff’s voice suddenly yell at them, telling them to run. Too late, though. Before they know it, Dean sees the others collapse down on the floor, soon following them when he feels a hard blow on his head. After that, everything is black.

When he wakes up again, he finds his hands tied up behind a tree. Before checking around where he is, he makes sure to see how tightly the ropes are tied. It takes a little wriggling to conclude that, though it’s not the tightest it has ever been, it will still be kind of difficult to get out of those bonds in just a little time.

After that he looks around, finding Sam standing next to him and Jody and Donna a little further away. All three of them are in the same position as he is.

There’s a girl talking, babbling some nonsense about love and being one of them. She’s one of those hippy-freaks, wearing clothes that look like they should probably deserve any rest in the trashcan. Her face is smudged with dirt and what looks like ash. To Dean, she sounds a little stoned.

“Okay, Mufasa, enough with the ‘Circle of Life’ crap. You’re a vampire,” Dean bites at her, making that his first attempt at trying to distract her. The girl, whatever her name is, just nods and makes an agreeing sound, so Dean continues. “You’re scum. End of story.”

He feels a little confused when the girl walks towards him with a strange smirk on her face. His face probably loses all its color the moment she starts messing around with his belt.

“Hey! I’m married, you know!” Dean snaps. The girl just snatches the belt away from him, and then throws it at one of her companions. He faintly hears Jody say something to her in the background, but he can’t find himself concentrating on her voice. His head is slightly turning, making him dizzy all of the sudden.

Around him, people keep on talking. He can’t focus on anything of the conversation around him. Instead, his mind is completely focused on trying to loosen the ropes. He keeps on squirming his hands, knowingly burning his skin with the scraping. In his thoughts, he keeps on telling himself he should have brought Cas along. He should have just begged him to come. Cas would have figured out the danger quickly with no trouble.

He doesn’t know what exactly has been said in the time he’s spaced out, but when he looks up again his hands are freed and the Sheriff’s head has been chopped off his neck.

In reflex, Dean goes after the two vampires coming in his way. He punches them hard in the face, but gets shoved hard on his shoulder. He loses his balance, ending up on the floor roughly.

“Dean!” somebody shouts at him; probably Sam. But Dean’s mind moves so slowly at the moment. He barely notices the vampire reaching out for him before it spontaneously bursts into flames in front of him.

“What the hell?” Dean asks loudly. Behind him, he hears a blade swinging, quickly followed by Donna saying ‘hakuna matata, lady’ to the now dead body of the hippie-vampire Dean still doesn’t know the name of.

Dean doesn’t really believe it when he sees the person standing in front of him. Mostly, because he’s sure this one actually died many years ago. Still, it’s no illusion when somehow Balthazar stands there, looking as bored as ever with his hand still reaching in front of him.

“What is it with you Winchesters and getting yourself in trouble all the time?” the Angel asks dryly. Dean throws a quick look at Sam, finding his brother just as surprised about this. How exactly did this dead Angel return from the dead?

Oh, no… This probably means…

“In case you’re wondering, I’m one of the Angels assigned to keep an eye on you until the Prophecy has been fulfilled,” Balthazar explains. He stays mysterious about it like Gabriel has been, but it feels even worse now that he knows that there’s more than one Angel assigned to keep him safe.

Slowly, he’s starting to understand how serious this Prophecy actually is.

About an hour later, everything Dean knows appears to have changed. He doesn’t wait until he’s back into the bunker. He needs to know today, right now, at this moment. After dropping Jody and Donna off at the resort, Jody took him apart, grabbing him by the arm before she made her way back inside.

 _“I care about you, Dean. That’s why I can’t keep this quiet,”_ she had said, whispering in his ear so that Sam wouldn’t hear. “ _The vomiting, it probably isn’t a bug, and I think deep inside you know it.”_

And he knows it. He does. But it has just never been an issue before, and it’s just so unthinkable to him that this might happen.

Yet, still, here he is, having locked himself up in the motel bathroom after a quick run to the store, holding a positive pregnancy stick in his hand.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the people who ARE reading this, I want to thank you so much! Don't be shy to leave a comment for any suggestions or indicating spelling mistakes that I missed. I'm not really optimistic about my writing lately, so it would actually help me out.  
> (Sorry if it sounds like I'm fishing for comments... I don't mean it like that, I'm just extremely insecure at the moment...)


	18. It's hot, yes, but also very dangerous

“So you found out?”

Dean looks up from his silent panicking. In front of him, slowly walking forward is Gabriel with golden wings spread wide. She’s wearing a long white classic dress; something Dean would never have imagined Gabriel to wear.

“Is that what it’s all about? You needed me knocked up?” Dean asks in an attempt to sound angry, but failing at it. To be really honest, he’s scared as hell.

Only a few hours ago Dean found out by peeing on a little stick he bought in a small store that he’s no longer alone inside this body, and he has to confess that, while he’s been calm about it on the way back home, right now his fear is showing inside his dream. The whole scape around him is blackened. It somehow feels like he’s in a scary forest with creepy trees and this permanent breeze that brings chills to everybody.

“Yes,” Gabriel answers Dean’s question truthfully, but it isn’t enough. Before Dean knows it he’s breathing heavily and his hands are stuck on his hair. He wonders if he’s squirming a lot next to Cas back in the real world.

“Wha- What does that even mean? A-am I destined for something? Is this child going to do something? Wha-?”

“ _On the sixth day of the seventh month, a child, born of an Angel and a Righteous soul, shall bring peace to all the realms, becoming the new ruler of them all,”_ Gabriel starts saying as he finally reveals this Prophecy to Dean. “ _Alongside both parents, they shall maintain order to the worlds, and when the time is right, it is this child that shall become the new deity the human race shall worship.”_

Dean starts shaking his head in denial. This is all just a bad dream. There has never been a test, the nausea is just a bug he’s caught after a previous hunt. There is no way that there’s an actual baby growing inside of him.

“This can’t happen, Gabe. Sam and Cas will find a way to-“

“To what? Remove the baby? Kill your own child? That can only be done by another Angel, Dean. Why do you think I took Castiel’s Grace in the first place?” Gabriel seems to glow for a minute, somehow illuminating Dean’s dark surroundings for a limited time before darkening down again. “ _So is God’s will, and so it shall be.”_

Dean stops talking after that. Speaking further only makes him more nervous than he already is, which really isn’t something he needs at this point. Now, this is all too real; getting rid of the pregnancy indeed meant having to kill the child. That’s against his nature; to kill an innocent person, even if that person is the offspring of a hunter and an Angel. A Nephilim; supposedly dangerous creatures according to Metatron. Of course, that jerk isn’t exactly the most relying source.

“So that one night, you put a spell on us?” Dean then asks instead, still unable to remember anything that happened back then. The only thing that remains fresh in his mind is the ache he had felt all over his whole body.

“Well yeah, it almost looked like you two were unable to finish _anything_ you started! That, and somehow you were getting close to being infertile. I had to step in of course!”

“Infertile?” Dean repeats in shock.

“Yeah, the chances of you getting pregnant would have been very small had I not interfered. It seems like your body is adamant to say ‘screw it’ to the whole prophecy. Luckily, daddy didn’t take away my mojo.” Gabriel makes another lollipop appear in his mouth, and she turns her head away from Dean.

“And what about Balthazar?” Dean wonders out loud, suddenly remembering the Angel helping him out after he was shoved down on the ground.

“One of the few Angels that have been brought back to protect your pregnant ass,” Gabriel clarifies.

Dean stays quiet for a moment, taking this time to think over this Prophecy Gabriel just explained to him. If he’s heard it correctly, it means that this child, this Nephilim growing inside of him, is destined to become the new God, to rule Heaven and make peace anywhere. It sounds like a big responsibility, a burden Dean wouldn’t want to rest on his kid’s shoulders.

“Cas and I don’t know anything about being parents, even less about raising a Nephilim. We can’t do this,” Dean tells Gabriel in hesitation and fear, knowing that he’s really unfit for raising a child.

“Don’t worry, you’ll have an opportunity of parenting soon enough,” Gabriel answers. Then the Archangels raises her hand and brings it to Dean’s forehead. “You’re about to wake up now. I’ll help you out.”

And with just a small touch, Dean’s mind is brought back to his bedroom, where he’s lying in his bed. He instantly feels the lack of another presence next to him, though he’s completely sure Cas had been next to him when he went to seep a few hours ago. The Angel must be up already, probably still working on the Novak’s.

He sits up a little bit when his head is cleared up. His hand goes to his forehead for a few minutes, before travelling down to his stomach and resting it there. Just the idea that there’s somebody else inside there makes his head hurt a little bit more.

“Let’s go find Cas,” Dean mutters towards his belly, wondering if, however small, the child could hear him. He throws his legs over the side of his bed and stands still for a moment, waiting for the usual nausea, though it doesn’t come.

 _Good_ , Dean thinks. He goes to his chair where his bathrobe was thrown on a while ago, and he puts it on. It’s just a useless attempt to keep his body hidden from the others. He knows it’s all in his head, that there isn’t already a bulge showing through his clothes, but just the idea that the robe is on soothes him just a little bit.

He makes his way to the kitchen without encountering anybody, wondering how late it is if there isn’t a single person walking around. Normally there’s always something happening here, but right now it’s completely silent.

“Cas? Sam?” Dean asks loudly, hearing a faint noise back in Sam’s room. So his brother is still there, that’s good. But what about the others?

In the kitchen he finally sees Kevin seated there, staring just straight ahead of him. He’s barely blinking, almost as if he’s under some kind of spell.

“Kevin?” Dean asks loudly. He gently shakes the guy out of his daze, and immediately the Prophet makes a panicking noise as he starts to look around.

“What the- where am I?” the guy asks, taking in his surroundings for a moment before deciding that he’s safe in the kitchen. Dean comes to sit down in front of him without removing his eyes from the kid sitting in front of him.

“Dude you were spaced out,” Dean tells him. He grabs for a piece of bread and whatever else he can find to start make his breakfast. “It looked like Prophet-stuff. You alright?”

Kevin nods a little bit. His fingers start rubbing on his chin while he tries to wake up a little bit more.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just, I think I remember something more about the Prophecy,” Kevin reveals. He goes to drink from his cup of coffee again, and when he finds it cold he makes a disgusted face and puts it back down. “I think it’s about a new God, replacing the current one.”

Dean stays quiet despite knowing the answer to that. He wants to tell him, to explain the full Prophecy to his friend, but at the same time he’s fearing of sharing this little fact about him being pregnant. So he stays quiet, for now at least.

“Have you seen Cas around? He wasn’t in bed when I woke up and I need to talk to him.” Kevin throws him a strange look for a moment. Dean frowns when he sees it, wondering what he did wrong to earn such a reaction.

“We’ve been researching our asses of for that Prophecy, and now that I tell you I remember something, you don’t even care?”

“Oh, I do care,” Dean counters. “I just… I need to speak to Cas, first.” He finds himself stumbling over his words. Right now all he wants is to be near Cas, to feel the Angel’s safety around him.

“He’s back in Pontiac, with Lauren. That’s all I know,” Kevin explains. Pontiac sounds vaguely familiar to him, but he can’t place it just yet. It’s a place he’s been to a few years ago, but he can’t remember any hunt he’s been on back there. What’s so special about Pontiac?

 _Don’t worry, you’ll have an opportunity of parenting soon enough._ The words sound clearly in his head, and right then he remembers.

Cas is off to see Jimmy’s daughter. He went back to the Novak’s.

 

* * *

 

 

_Meanwhile, Pontiac, Illinois  
Youth Transition Center_

 

For a moment it feels weird to be back in a suit and the trench coat. Despite wearing this outfit for years at a time, he’s already grown used to a few months of putting on Dean’s clothing. Every time he walks by a mirror, he’s reminded of the Angel he used to be. No, the Angel he still is, somewhere inside.

Right now, Castiel is wondering if he’s doing the right thing. The car is already parked in front of the center, and by now the guards are kind of suspicious of him staying inside for that long, but the hesitation is just too strong.

Right next to him, Lauren is seated. He knows Dean would be completely against bringing the woman along, but when it comes to legal business, she’s a major addition to this task, and she might be a big help to him.

“You ready?” Lauren asks one more time. She’s patient, which Castiel appreciates a lot. He finds the courage in himself to nod and pull out the keys from the ignition, finally stepping outside of the car and getting back into the open air. He can do this; he’s done so much research on Claire and Amelia, he knows that the girl is on her own right now, though the reason as for why that is, is still unclear to him.

The two are allowed inside by the guards when they reveal they’re there to visit Claire Novak, and Castiel doesn’t miss the mocking sound coming from the men when they pass them by. It probably means nothing, anyway.

At the reception, a woman with her hair tied in a tight bun is typing down some things on the computer. When Castiel comes to stand in front of her, she looks up at him through her glasses.

“Can I help you?” she asks in a friendly way. At least she isn’t impolite.

“Yes, I’m here to see Claire Novak?” Castiel tells her. The woman’s eyes go big now, too. For a moment, she just stares at him unbelievingly before lowering her head again to check on the screen after typing some things.

“And your name is?” she asks.

“Jimmy Novak, I’m her father,” Castiel answers a little stiffly. It feels weird to say that out loud, but it’s what they agreed to pose as; Castiel pretends to be Jimmy, and Lauren is his new girlfriend. It’s indescribable how uncomfortable he feels about doing this.

“Father, huh?” the woman asks without looking up. She has one eyebrow raised and appears unimpressed somehow. “Well give someone ‘daddy of the year’ award.”

“Excuse me?” Castiel asks, not really understanding what she means. She just shakes her head, and Lauren does the same, telling him not to ask for clarification in this case. Castiel tries not to be bothered when the woman ignores his question anyway, but wisely decides to follow Lauren’s instruction of just letting it pass.

“The orderly will take you to her. You have about two hours max before visiting hours at isolation are over.”

Before Castiel can asks any further on the ‘isolation’-thing, another man is gently tugging his arm in order to get him along. He doesn’t speak, but looks friendly enough in Castiel’s opinion.

The three of them silently walk through multiple hallways, each one of them almost looking exactly like the others. All the walls are painted white here, and so are the doors. There’s only a few amount of windows, and those that are here have bars on the outside to keep the inhabitants from escaping – or jumping out;

Finally, the orderly stops in front of another white door, not bothering to knock before pulling the lock back and opening it.

“Novak, you got a visitor,” he hears the man say. In the background, there’s the disbelieving voice of Claire, wondering if the man is joking or not. It feels weird to hear it again. It gives him this weird feeling all over his body, like a reflex. There’s a strange need of protectiveness, but Castiel doesn’t know what for.

“Your father’s here to see you,” the orderly clarifies. Then he takes a step back and indicates for Castiel to move forward, which the Angel does, slowly. How is the girl going to react? Is she going to think it’s really Jimmy? Or will she know right away it’s not her father walking right inside her isolation cell?

Once he gets a good look at his vessel’s daughter, he finds the girl seated on the ground with a punching dummy in front of her. Castiel detects a small wound on her knuckles. Is the girl fighting? Is she hunting? There are so many questions he needs to ask. In her surprise, Claire stands up from where she’s seated.

“Can we have a moment?” he asks the orderly. The man nods quietly, shooting a short look in Lauren’s way before making a few steps back.

“I’ll be outside,” he tells him. Castiel nods in a thanks, and after that, the door is closed behind him. Lauren stays outside with the orderly in the hallway, leaving Castiel alone with Claire in the isolation room.

“I’m not your father,” Castiel tells her, seeing the small smile disappear from Claire’s face. She looks troubled. Her hair has been bleached out a little bit, because last time Castiel saw her it was darker. Around her eyes are the remnants of eye make-up, probably still on from the day before.

“Right, ‘I’m not your father’,” Claire quotes in a low grumbling voice. There’s a slight mocking tone in the way she speaks, though the sadness is thick above it. “Those are the first words you ever said to me, remember?”

And Castiel does. How could he forget? The first human being he ever saw through these eyes are that of his vessel’s daughter. Right now, he remembers the hurt in her eyes when he told her he wasn’t who she thought he was. Back then, he couldn’t really care any less about it. Now, though, knowing Claire had been hurt like that by him, it makes him feel a little sick to say the least.

“I remember everything,” he tells her truthfully, not hiding the shame he feels towards her.

“So do I, Castiel,” she says, speaking out his name with hate thick on her voice. “My dad… is he still in there?”

Castiel can’t seem to find his words. Something’s keeping him from talking, and he wonders if that thick feeling in his throat has something to do with it. He tries to swallow it away, but that doesn’t work. How is the best way to explain to this girl that her father is gone? For good?

“No,” he finally gets out. Claire huffs out a breath and rolls her eyes away. Castiel recognizes the motion as an attempt to hold back tears. “The human soul, it can only occupy a body while it retains a certain… structural integrity, and this vessel, it was… it was ripped apart on a subatomic level by an Archangel.”

Multiple times even. Once by Raphael, once by Lucifer.

Oh, that look on Claire’s face indicates that she’s… uninterested. Of course she wouldn’t really care about Angels and human souls. Her father’s not there anymore, what else is there that Castiel could offer her?

“Well, then how are you…?” she asks without finishing her question. She lifts up her arms a little bit while looking down his body. Somehow, her eyes seem to widen when she spots the wedding ring on Castiel’s left hand.

“I was reassembled,” Castiel answers. “Your father is in Heaven.”

“Well, yay for him,” Claire grits out, barely allowing Castiel to finish his sentence. Even without his mindreading Castiel knows what she’s feeling towards him is hatred, which, while he can understand it, is the exact opposite of what he came to look for. “Anyway, good talk. You can get the hell out of my life, now.”

Then Claire turns around so she can walk towards the window lightening up the whole room. Without thinking about it, Castiel follows her.

“Claire-“ he starts, unable to finish his sentence when Claire makes a sharp turn to face him again.

“What?!” she snaps. “Huh? What? You took everything from me. What do you want now?”

Once again, her eyes lower down to his left hand, probably trying to check if the ring is still on there.

“Nothing, I just- I came here to help you,” Castiel tries carefully. At least, he thinks that’s why he’s here. It might also be the start towards the path of forgiving himself, but he’s not sure about that, either.

“Why?” Claire asks in disbelief. _Because I stole your father away from you. Because I endangered your mother. Because I possessed you, once. Because I then stole your father away from you again._ There are countless of reasons why he should be doing this.

“Because I’ve hurt you so much.”

And now it’s obviously getting too difficult for Claire to keep back her tears, though she’s doing a good job at hiding them. There are a few gasps for breath, and she blinks her eyes multiple times, but she doesn’t answer in any other way. This might be the time for Castiel to ask the important question here.

“Where is your mother?” he asks. And then the anger is back, quickly followed by a sigh. Her voice is still shaky while she talks.

“About a few months after you… she took off.” Claire moves back forward, slowly making her way to the bed so she can sit down on it. Her eyes are averted from Castiel, avoiding any eye contact. “Dropped me off at my grandma’s and went to go ‘find herself’.”

“Castiel could understand that. While her husband and daughter had both been possessed by Angels, she was the only one to have fallen victim to a demon. It isn’t _that_ surprising that she would have gone to a path to seek purification.

“I guess she’s still looking,” Claire then finishes up dryly. She sounds bitter and accusing, but Castiel can’t blame her. For a moment, there’s another silence. Claire is looking up at him, expecting him to say something that might matter. Castiel just turns his gaze away to check out the white room Claire is staying at. There’s a one-sided window on one side of the room where the orderlies can check in on her, but otherwise it’s very empty.

“And you’re in a… child prison?” he asks, unable to come to the correct word for it. Claire squints a little bit at him, reminding him of himself.

“It’s a group home,” she corrects him dryly. “After my Gran died, I didn’t have anyone, so…I bounced around to different foster families. Places like this. Living the dream, you know?”

She’s been through so much. There have been so many years without her having a real home. Castiel feels that ache inside of him again. It gnaws at him, mostly because it’s all because of him.

“Cell, Claire, I’m-“ Castiel starts, but his breath starts for a little bit. “I’m sorry, and… I can never replace what I took from you. But if there is anything you need. Anything at all…”

Castiel can see Claire clearly thinking. Her eyes look up again, resting on him while she seems to be making up her mind. Then the girl sits up in complete self-assurance.

“Get me out of here.”

Luckily, Lauren thought of this. That’s why they decided to let her pose as his new girlfriend in the first place. That’s why she decided she wanted to come along on this trip, since Castiel doesn’t know anything about the law.

“I brought a lawyer and a tie,” Castiel says. Claire’s eyes drop down to his chest, and she looks suddenly unimpressed.

“Yeah, I can see that,” she gets out. Castiel lowers his head to check it out, and indeed he sees that the tie is already around his neck. He makes a little surprised ‘oh’, and then he just shrugs. After getting back to the door, he motions for Claire to follow him. After he knocks against the wood, he gets faced with the orderly again. He sees Lauren sitting down on a chair in the hallway, and he nods at her.

“Could we speak to whoever is in charge?” he asks. The orderly frowns at him, but nods in silence. Then he turns around, allowing Castiel, Claire and Lauren to follow him. Nobody speaks because there’s nothing to be said. Claire doesn’t know Lauren. Castiel ruined Claire’s life. There are no words to be said.

They get directed into an office. The door doesn’t have any nameplates. There’s a desk in the middle of the room with two chairs in front of it. The Orderly grabs another chair from the hallway and adds it to the other two.  

After the three of them are seated, the orderly tells them to wait for _Sandy_. After that, the man leaves them alone. Claire turns towards Castiel to tighten his tie a little bit, making it a little bit too tight in Castiel’s opinion.

“There, now you look like a dad,” she tells him. There’s a slight smile on her face, somehow bringing some joy to Castiel. He sees her face fall again, though, when she notices his wedding ring again. Then she leans back in her seat and crosses her arms. “You got married?” she asks.

Castiel lifts up his left hand for a moment to view the ring again. “Yes, I did. A few months ago.”

Claire nods faintly and turns her head. When Castiel opens his mouth again to say something else, Lauren stops him in silence by putting her hand on his arm. On that moment, the door opens, revealing a woman with her hair put up in a bun.

Out of reflex, Castiel comes to stand up. He remembers it was normal for people to rise when a lady entered the room. That custom mustn’t have changed, right?

But he’s proven wrong when the woman smiles down in embarrassment, dismissing him with two short ‘no’s’. So, a little bit in confusion, Castiel sits back down again, ignoring the looks on Lauren’s and Claire’s faces. The woman, Mrs. Phelan her nameplate says, puts down a few documents before taking place behind her desk. She shuffles the chair forward a little bit and takes a long look at Castiel.

“So, Mr. Novak. I understand you want the custody of your daughter?” she asks politely. Castiel nods slowly.

“Yes, that’s, uh… that’s…” While he speaks he can practically hear Dean’s words from back in the early stages of their relationship.

“ _Man, you sound like you’ve gone through fifty packs of cigarettes.”_

Jimmy never smoked. Castiel shouldn’t sound like he did. So, he clears his throat – which feels really strange – and allows his voice to go higher.

“That’s right,” he then says. He can’t help the slight tremble while he speaks, but it’s at least a little better. Claire’s expression is unreadable, so Castiel doesn’t even try to decipher what she’s thinking about this.

Mrs. Phelan nods again without removing her eyes from him. “Why?” she asks shortly.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s a simple question. You vanish for years. No contact, not even a Christmas card. Why come back now?”

Castiel throws Lauren a pained look of discomfort. What could he possibly tell her? Oh, sure, he can lie. That has been quite obvious over the years. But coming up with excuses like these? He needs to say something that would come over believable, and his only help in that is the woman sitting next to him.

“To be completely honest, Mrs. Phelan, Claire’s mother had forbidden every kind of contact with her or their daughter. James just didn’t want to have another fight, so he respected her wishes,” Lauren lies without any trouble doing it. Claire remains especially quiet next to Castiel, and Mrs. Phelan just keeps on staring.

“We’re separated,” Castiel explains. He doubts that he sounds convincing, though. “Claire’s mother thought I was too busy with work.”

“And what is it that you do exactly?” Mrs. Phelan asks. She already looks unconvinced, which makes Castiel only more nervous. He thinks back of what Jimmy Novak had been doing as work before he had offered himself up.

“Sales advertising,” he guesses. Next to him, Claire nods lightly in approval in another attempt to convince Mrs. Phelan. Castiel feels weird when Lauren suddenly takes his hand in hers, but he does notice it catches the woman’s attention.

“You are aware that there are a certain protocols to be followed through before I can allow Claire to leave with you?” she then starts to explain. She lifts up her arms from the desk to pull out some drawers. She puts down a few folders in front of them.

“I was hoping I could go through the legal business right now so we could take her home?” Lauren starts. Mrs. Phelan leans back in her chair for a moment. She eyes the two warily before shaking her head.

“Even if that were possible, we wouldn’t allow you as the lawyer on this case since you have a personal attachment. Like I said, it’s going to be a little while before you can take Claire with you.”

Castiel turns to Lauren, catching her eye for a second. The woman just shrugs, making clear that she’s not able to do anything more.

“Claire, could you wait in the hallway, please?” Mrs. Phelan suddenly asks. The girl seated next to Castiel looks up in surprise, and then starts opening her mouth in protest. The woman just holds up her hand and points a finger through the door. With clear disdain, Claire stands up, making heavy steps when she leaves the room. She might slam the door shut a little too loudly, but it could also just have been the wind.

“Now, Mr. Novak, Mrs. Porter. I’m willing to accept your application. You look like you’re really trying to be there for Claire, but what I’m seeing is an attempt to be her friend,” Mrs. Phelan suddenly reveals. Cas nods in agreement to her statement. Of course Claire needs friends. Good friends that would keep her out of trouble.

“Yes,” Castiel tells her.

“And that’s our problem, Mr. Novak,” then comes out. “Claire’s troubled. The last few years have not been easy for her. And she doesn’t need a friend; she needs a father.”

 

* * *

 

_Meanwhile, Men of Letters HQ  
Lebanon Kansas_

Dean hasn’t been able to stop staring at his stomach for almost a whole hour.

He can’t help it; just the idea that there’s something inside there makes him feel all swollen up, like somehow it is already showing despite only being there for what would be about three weeks now.

His stomach is flat, but it just feels so big, and that’s why Dean finds himself stuck in front of that mirror; to get proof that it’s not too obvious that his Angel got him knocked up after what must have been an amazing night that he regrettably _can’t remember_.

“Dean? I made something to eat!” Comes from the kitchen, but can easily be heard from Dean’s bedroom. In a reflex, Dean nods, but immediately catches himself and tucks his shirt back inside his pants.

“Coming!” he shouts at his brother. For another moment, Dean searches for his eyes, trying to convince _himself_ that he’s okay. As long as it’s not too obvious that he feels a little bit shaken up, everything will be fine.

In just a matter of seconds Dean finds himself in the room that has by now become so familiar to him that he feels a sensation of domesticity passing through him. It should scare him, a lot even, but as he sits down in front of Kevin, ignoring the empty seat next to his, he feels strangely calm.

Except, of course, for the fact that his husband ran off with his friend to find said husband’s vessel’s daughter, or let’s not forget about that little thing called his sudden pregnancy. Man, even now those words sound strange through his mind.

It takes Dean a little while to notice that there _is_ an extra person sitting at their dinner table, but instead of having a plate in front of her, the girl is seated with a laptop at her fingers. Dean knows Gabriel doesn’t need to eat, so it’s not that surprising to him that there’s a lack of plates at her place.

Gabriel is staring at the screen with a light smirk on her face. When Sam passes her by, he looks over her shoulder to the image as well, sometimes smirking at what he sees.

“What are you laughing at?” Dean asks him after a few more smirks. Kevin, Linda and Crowley look up as well, obviously wondering the same question in their mind without asking it out loud. Sam casts his eyes towards his brother, looking like a little kid caught with his hand in a jar of cookies. Then he moves forward to take place next to Dean’s _other_ empty chair.

“Sorry, it was an old episode of _The Three Stooges_ ,” Sam says. Dean’s eyes travel from Sam to Gabriel, finding the Angel still laughing it out loudly from whatever is happening in the video.

“Oh, it’s a classic!” the Archangel gets out shakily. She keeps her hand on her stomach while trying to control herself, and Sam, too, has trouble keeping a laugh inside. Finally, though, Linda comes bringing the plates with food Sam promised them, so at least they won’t have to starve to death while Gabriel is having the time of her life.

“Oh, hello beautiful,” Dean mutters when he sees the grilled cheese sandwich laid down before him. He can’t stop himself from grabbing it in his two hands and taking a big bite out of it. After a few seconds of enjoying his meal, he opens his eyes, noticing the others staring at him.

“What?” he asks.

“You want some time alone with that thing?” Sam asks. Dean throws him a short glare, wanting to tell him it’s been a while since he’s been able to keep anything inside, but telling them would be revealing too much already. He just needs more time. Cas needs to know first.

Dean just wishes he was here.

 

* * *

 

Despite coming to an agreement that they would go the whole legal process of gaining custody over Claire, Castiel can’t help but feel something eat inside of him when he starts thinking of the promise he made the girl. That he would get her out of here.

Even though they might go through the whole process legally, they might still get a denial as answer, forcing Claire back into the home until she’s eighteen. Castiel doesn’t want her to wait that long, and with the bad luck he’s been having lately, the only answer he’s probably going to get is a negative one.

So, even though his discussion lead to them understanding that they would have to wait until the end, Castiel leaves his motel room in the middle of the night, hoping not to wake up Lauren lying in the other bed. He already feels guilty for not having contacted Dean all day, but now he can add going behind Lauren’s back on his list of things he did wrong today.

The trip to the home doesn’t take too long, but it’s the matter of his lack of power that scares him. With all his Grace intact, he would have flown in and out in just a matter of seconds. Instead, he fears that he might only be able to knock out three people at most.

Slipping inside proves to be more difficult than anticipated. The power of opening locked doors is safely tucked away inside his Grace, and he’s unable to get to it, making it necessary for him to open it up with just a paperclip. Though Dean showed him a while ago how to do it, it still takes him a while before he hears that click that tells him he’s through.

Once inside, though, he meets up with the first guard right away. Probably some alarm system has been activated when he broke in. Before the man can get a good look at him, Cas brings him unconscious, draining so much from his power that he feels worn out right away.

But he has to get to Claire, no matter how horrible he might be feeling right now. Because he promised Jimmy he would take care of her, and that’s what he’s going to do. So he keeps walking, recalling the way from when he was brought there earlier today. The second guard doesn’t even notice him until the Angel’s hand is on his head, and after that he’s down on the floor, knocked out and lying on his back.

Castiel’s sight get blurry for a moment. With his shoulder he leans against the wall to keep himself up. His hand goes to his forehead when a slight headache passes through him. The next guard might knock him down, so he hopes no-one else comes along now.

After his vision is fully restored, Castiel kneels down to check the guard’s pockets, searching for any key that might get him through the room Claire’s been held in. Firstly, he finds a wallet, throwing it aside as it has no use to him. Eventually, a ring of keys comes along, showing quite an amount to try out.

“Damn it,” Castiel mutters. He would need to try out every single one to find which key is the one to open the door with. That could make him lose time, making it easier for the other guards to find him. He has to work quickly, then.

With a shaky hand, Castiel selects the first key on the ring, realizing just by looking at it that it won’t possibly fit at all. At least it spares him some time. The second one doesn’t turn, and the third one almost breaks in Castiel’s haste. The fourth and the fifth seemed promising, but just like the second one didn’t budge once they were inside. The seventh once again was too big for it, and the eighth was in fact too small. Castiel loses almost all hope when there are still ten more keys to go, but his luck has returned to him when he hears the click of a turning lock after pressing the ninth one inside.

“Thank dad,” he mutters to himself. Then he pushes the door open, revealing himself to the teenager stuck inside. The girl stares up at him in wonder with widely opened eyes. Castiel can hear from her breathing that she must have been panicking before she knew who it was.

“It’s you,” she mutters out. Then she takes a few steps forward. “What’s going on?”

“I’m getting you out of here,” he clarifies. Claire seems to hesitate for another moment before turning back towards the bed. For a brief second, Castiel thinks she’s going to tell him to get out, to leave her alone. But then, she grabs her jacket from the mattress, storming out of the room with no further comment.

When they make their way through the hallway, Castiel has to make sure not to step on the guard he put to sleep on his way to Claire. The man is still lying on the ground. Castiel grabs the keys from inside his pocket, and throws them back on the man. He might need them later on.

“Is he…?” Claire starts, seeming scared for what Castiel might say in return.

“He’s sleeping,” he assures her. There’s no time for comforting of any kind, they need to get out of there before the other guards join them right there. Luckily, Claire understands, storming after the Angel when he just keeps on walking.

On his way out he realizes he got lucky, not coming across another guard. Taking down just that last one might have knocked him down completely. Still, though, he doesn’t want to take his chances; he puts a hand on Claire’s shoulder, pushing her forward towards his car without waiting for any reaction on her side. There’s a slight protest coming from the teen, but it falls on deaf ears.

Castiel can’t drive away quickly enough. His hands are white from gripping the steering wheel too tightly, and he finds himself biting on his lower lip while trying to calm down his heart. Humans get nervous about the smallest things and it annoys Castiel to say the least. He misses the times where he was so calm in situations like these.

After another wordless drive, Castiel parks at a small restaurant. Claire is a young, growing girl. She needs to eat, and Castiel is sure that, whatever she’s gotten from that institute, isn’t anything close to what she needs.

“Seriously?” Claire asks in disbelief. She remains seated in the car, but her eyes are stuck on Castiel, as if she’s trying to find even just a glimpse of her dad inside of him. He feels regret in disappointing her, but she knows well enough that her father isn’t there anymore. She shouldn’t get her hopes up in any way.

“You can order whatever you want, I’ll pay for it,” Castiel tells her before getting out of the car, himself. Claire huffs out a breath mockingly, but quickly follows him outside. The place is quite crowdy once they get inside, but after asking the waitress, they get directed to a table for two somewhere in the middle of the room. It’s not the most ideal place to remain stealthy, but it’ll do for now.

“And the woman would be okay with that?” Claire’s eyes rest on his wedding ring for a moment before opening up the menu to go through the different kinds of food.

“I don’t see why Lauren would disagree with that,” he responds in confusion. It’s his money, not Lauren’s, isn’t it? What does Dean’s friend have to say about him spending it on the daughter of his vessel’s food? 

Castiel doesn’t pay attention when Claire makes her order. His mind is drifting off, thinking about Dean back at home, wondering if the Hunter would be mad he left on his own despite promising he would tell Dean first.

Or, wait, Castiel promised he wouldn’t take action alone, which he didn’t. He brought Lauren along. So it’s not like he should be feeling guilty about that part, now.

Claire is already busy eating, dipping her fries into a big amount of ketchup, when Castiel gets pulled back into reality by Claire.

“Yeah?” she asks, and it’s then that Castiel realizes he’s been staring at her plate ever since it has been delivered.

“Nothing, it’s just,” Castiel starts, trying to get to his words. “You could eat a vegetable.”

There’s a light smirk coming, then another light dip into the sauce before Claire lifts up the fry.

“Ketchup’s a vegetable,” she tells him. For a moment, Castiel isn’t sure whether or not she’s joking, but it takes him a few more seconds to realize that her answer is exactly what Dean would have said if asked the same question. It makes him miss Dean even more. He shouldn’t have gone alone.

Claire laughs a little bit while pulling out her hair from her face. It’s then that Castiel notices the tattooed stars on her arms. Is it permanent? Or did she just draw it on with a ballpoint pen? If it’s a permanent one, Castiel hopes Claire isn’t going to regret having it in the first place.

“You’ve changed,” Claire finally explains when Castiel can’t for the life of him figure out what has gotten Claire so enthusiastic all of the sudden. “The Castiel I met? He was crappy. Like super stuck-up and a dick and you just wanted to punch him in his stupid Angel face.”

Hmm, that sounds vaguely like something Dean once said to him in the past.

“I don’t think I was _that_ bad,” Castiel counters in his own self-defence, not even believing his own words.

“You totally were. And now you’re just… I don’t know… nicer, and kind of a doof – no offense – and man, you even got married!”

Castiel feels a slight blush appear on his face. It’s the closest thing to a compliment he’ll probably ever get from Claire, but it’s the best thing he’s heard all day.

“Yes, well, um… before, I was very self-assured. I was convinced I was on this righteous path.” Claire stays quiet but keeps looking at him with a strange interest in her eyes. “Now I realize that there is no righteous path. It’s just people trying to do their best in a world where it’s far too easy to do your worst.”

Claire looks pensive for a moment. “Wow, deep,” she gets out. Her voice catches a little, betraying that blunt mask she’s trying to pull off.

“Yeah,” Castiel smirks. Then he leans forward a little bit. “For a doof.”

And this time, the smile on Claire’s face seems genuine, making Castiel feel strangely proud of himself. At that moment, the waitress comes by, bringing Castiel the check of Claire’s meal. He nods at her in a thanks, and she smiles back. After that, she walks away again.

“So, next stop is back home, then,” Castiel mutters out, reminding himself quickly that he needs to pick up Lauren, first. He almost fears returning to that motel, knowing very well that the woman will be furious.

But Claire’s reaction is different from what Castiel expected. She looks taken aback, and kind of reluctant.

“Look, I appreciate the meal. And, you know, the felony. But you don’t need to babysit me. I can take care of myself,” Claire assures him bitterly. Castiel can’t really make himself understand exactly what she’s talking about. Is she leaving? Does she want to go on alone?

“What do you mean?” he asks her.

“I mean, you felt guilty, so you busted me out. So thanks, but we’re good. Even Steven.”

So she _is_ trying to push him away. Castiel can’t’ have that. He needs Claire to be safe, and that won’t happen if she’s just allowed to go her own way with no-one to supervise her. She’s seventeen, not old enough to be travelling on her own like that!

“No we, um, committed a crime, and you might need me again. So I think we should stick together.

Claire’s expression is still bitter, but somehow it seems like Castiel got through to her. She seems to be thinking about what he just told her before rolling her eyes quickly and taking a deep breath.

“Okay. You want to get some stuff for the road? I have to pee.”

In just a matter of seconds Claire is up again, unable to get to the toilet soon enough, apparently. Castiel stares at her for a few seconds.

“Oh, okay,” he gets out hesitantly. He might as well go and pay for the food he got the girl, so he gets on his feet as well. After that, he starts to walk forward, unintentionally bumping in against Claire when she tries to go the other way. He notices a stack of magazines in front of him, and figures he might take some, not only too keep Claire entertained but also to keep Lauren down. The lawyer might probably forgive him is he brings her a magazines with, what she would call ‘hot hunks’ printed on every page.

After that there’s some food (mostly gummybears to bribe Lauren some more). When he sets it down on the counter, the woman – the waitress from before – just stares at him in confusion. He can understand where that comes from.

“It’s for a teenage girl,” Castiel assures her. “And for my husband’s best friend.”

The woman now frowns. What did he say wrong?

“The girl is urinating,” he clarifies. He can see the forced smile on the cashier’s face, but is thankful she finally starts checking the products he put down in front of her. He should get his money ready to pay, he figures, so he reaches for the inside of his pockets, only finding that his wallet is missing.

“My wallet’s gone,” he mutters out in shock. The cashier looks up at him in shock, but then leans forward on the counter as she stops with the scanning of the products.

“Do you need me to call the police?” she asks, but Castiel shakes his head. They won’t be able to help at all – they would mostly make it worse. He does bring up the last bit of money he has on him, barely covering for Claire’s food, before making his way outside again. He won’t be able to buy those magazines after all.

Once he’s back into the fresh air of the outside, he takes a long look around. At that moment, he finds Claire standing at the side of the road, calling out for help at a silver car passing by. She’s literally running towards it when she notices he saw her.

“Claire?” Castiel calls out. The girl ignores him, instead stepping inside the silver car and urging the driver to go as fast as he can. “Wait! Hey!”

But he’s too late to stop the car. Once he gets to the side of the road as well, it has already moved forward, leaving the Angel behind with no money and no documents on him.

This should be the right time to call Dean, Castiel realizes, and he almost dreads having to explain what exactly happened.

 

* * *

 

 

_The next morning_

The walk to the motel had been short last night, but Lauren’s ranting against him had taken most of the night, leaving Castiel exhausted even after waking up again. He can understand why the woman’s upset; he left her without any message to do something against the law. That might rub off wrongly to a woman that defends the law in the first place.

It was Lauren who called Sam, too. That, at least, has been a small relief for Castiel. It meant not having to call up Dean himself. The hunter had agreed to come up the next morning, which is why Cas and Lauren are both waiting in front of the restaurant until the brothers arrive.

To say that Castiel is almost afraid of seeing Dean again is even an understatement. He knows Dean will be furious. He’ll probably start cursing again, and it is not impossible he would take a swing at a car if it wouldn’t damage the Impala. Worst case scenario would have him pick up another cigarette after having stayed away from them for about a month now.

Both Lauren and Castiel look up when they hear the familiar sound of the Impala’s engine nearing by. The black car, of course, stands out between all the others, but that’s mostly because it’s such a beautiful model that even Castiel has grown attached to it.

He tries to keep his face even when the two brothers get out of the car, barely managing when he feels another wave of disappointment at the lack of seeing Dean’s soul again. He would do anything to catch another glimpse or it, but he has to spare his powers. Using too much will wear him down.

When the brothers are finally standing in front of him, Lauren starts to explain what exactly happened here. Castiel stays quiet during the whole time, trying to escape the glare coming from Dean. Once the woman is finished talking, a short silence falls upon them.

“This is why you called us?” Dean asks suddenly, voice sounding angered. “ _This_ is your emergency?”

Castiel frowns at the sudden reaction. There’s no reason for Dean to be this surprised about it, right?

“Yes!” he urges on, a little louder than expected. He needs Dean to take this case seriously.

“No, Cas!” Dean counters while shaking his head. Next to Dean, Sam takes a deep breath, obviously not wanting to stay standing there. “An emergency is a dead body, okay? Or- or a wigged-out Angel, or the Apocalypse, take three! Some chick bolting on you is not an emergency. That’s… that’s every Friday night for Sam.”

“Dude,” Sam mutters against him, but at least there’s a small smile on Dean’s face. The older brother just shrugs with a smirk.

“This isn’t just ‘some chick’. I’m responsible for her,” Castiel defends himself. He can’t keep the annoyance towards his husband out of his voice, but to be honest, Dean might deserve that a little bit, too.

“Since when? You met her once, how many years ago?” Dean snaps back. “No, Cas, you have a responsibility at home, to your family, from which you ran away from with no further explanation to go after a girl that _obviously_ doesn’t want your help.”

Castiel frowns, now, and he’s sure he’s not imagining the confused looks on both Lauren’s and Sam’s face. A responsibility to his family? When, ever, has that been the issue for them? They could all take care of themselves. Heck, there’s even a super powerful witch locked in the basement, for crying out loud! What safer are they at home than in the outside world? Castiel already opens his mouth to counter Dean, but not before being interrupted by Sam.

“Look, Cas. Even if we do find Claire… then what?”

“She rolled you, and then she ran, okay?” Dean adds to that. “It’s pretty clear that she doesn’t want to play house.”

Castiel can’t remember a time he was so annoyed at Dean’s lack of understanding. He has to use all his self-control to keep himself from snapping at his husband. His face is turned away from both brothers, he has to take a few deep breaths. Lauren’s hand suddenly finds her way to his shoulder, which calms him down a lot, suddenly.

“I understand,” Castiel gets out. “But I need to know that Claire is safe. And I need your help.”

There, he said it. He needs their help. It seems to switch something inside of Dean, because the hunter drops the annoyed expression on his face, and is now instead just staring at Castiel in that way they always do.

“All right, uh, why don’t we go ask around at the group home?” Sam asks.

“Uh, you know what? We’re going to stick here in case she circles back. You two go ahead.”

Yes, another one of Dean’s best attempts of trying to get some alone-time with Cas. Though, this time might be the first time the hunter doesn’t expect any sex out of it. Despite dreading another argument with Dean, all Castiel hopes for is that Lauren and Sam take the bait. Castiel hands her the keys of the car they took from the Bunker, and with a slight nod, Lauren takes it. Both her and Sam move forward towards the beige car parked next to the Impala.

“Thank you,” Castiel whispers to Dean. The hunter just shrugs before wrapping his arms around the Angel and hugging him tightly. Castiel has trouble breathing for a moment, but he doesn’t mind; as long as he has Dean close to him, nothing matters at all.

“Don’t _ever_ run off like that!” Dean bites at him despite the hug. “I come back from a hunt, only to find you gone. At least let me know, next time.”

Castiel nods, a little embarrassed that he worried Dean so much. When they pull back a little, they share a short kiss on the mouth, and then they go back inside. There’s a different waitress, this time, and she brings them to a free table, taking their orders before running off again. The first thing Castiel does is grabbing the bottle of ketchup from the table and searching through the ingredients. When, minutes later, two plates are dropped in front of them, he still can’t find anything other than tomatoes indicating that Claire’s statement is true.

“Is ketchup a vegetable?” he asks. Dean just looks up at him, and there’s a small smirk coming up on his face.

“Hell yes,” he tells him. Castiel decides that Claire and Dean are little bit too much alike when it comes to this subject, so he just lets it go for now. Surely, he might get a better answer from Sam. “All right, so spill. What’s with the family reunion?”

“You know I’ve been researching the Novaks for a while,” Castiel asks him in confusion. Dean just shrugs, taking a slight look at Castiel’s plate. The Angel, having already eaten before coming here, allows the hunter to switch their plates. It seems like Dean is extremely hungry lately. “I’ve been thinking about people; I’ve helped some, but I’ve hurt some, too.”

Dean nods, mouth filled with a big bite of the hamburger in his hand. “So you’re having a midlife crisis,” he states.

“Well, I’m extremely old. I think I’m entitled.”

For a moment, all he gets is a long stare from Dean. It’s like the hunter is trying to remind himself that Castiel is, indeed, older than humanity itself. There are things Castiel has seen that Dean can’t even comprehend, and though he wishes to explain it all to his husband, he’s not sure Dean’s mind could handle that all.

“Cas, listen to me,” Dean then begins. “There’s some stuff you just got to let go, okay? The people you let down, the ones you can’t save… you got to forget about them, for your own good.”

“Dean, you and I both know even _you_ can’t do that,” Castiel deadpans. It earns him a conflicted look from Dean that is quickly shrugged away.

“Well, I ain’t exactly a role model,” the hunter tells him. It pains Castiel to hear his husband talk about himself like that. He’s well aware that Dean doesn’t think much of himself, and it’s impossible to make Dean see how much he’s truly worth.

“I wish you would stop seeing yourself so low,” Castiel responds quietly. There’s a short, sad look in Dean’s eyes before he turns his head away, and after that, it’s silent. Dean takes another few bites from the hamburger he had ordered for Cas. He looks healthy enough, but there’s still something strange about him that Castiel can’t place.

“How are you, Dean?” the Angel asks after a few more seconds of staring. Dean looks up for a moment, appearing completely taken aback by the question.

“Fine,” he answers shortly. Castiel knows Dean long enough to see that it’s a complete lie. He tilts his head a little bit to urge Dean on. “I’m great,” Dean then adds.

But Castiel shakes his head, then. “No, you’re not,” he counters.

“Yeah, well, where do I start? I lost my dick but received boobs in return, and now I’m-…” Bust Dean doesn’t finish. The word gets stuck in his throat, somehow, and for a moment Castiel is scared that he’s choking. His hand reaches for his husband sitting next to him, and the moment he touches him, Dean jumps up in surprise.

“Sorry, no, I’m fine, babe,” Dean says, almost automatically.

“Dean?” Castiel still tries, though. His husband was about to say something before he lost his words. Maybe he can finish his sentence?

“Cas, I need to ask you something,” Dean suddenly starts. Castiel nods towards him, telling him to continue. “Is all this Claire-stuff… does it have anything to do with having kids? Does it make you feel like a father?”

And now Castiel remains quiet. He hadn’t really thought about this before, but now he wonders why not. It makes complete sense at the first thought, but when he thinks about it further, he knows helping Claire isn’t all about having somebody to call his daughter.

“Maybe partly, yes,” Castiel confesses. “I know we can’t have kids – or maybe technically right now we can, but we agreed not to. All I’m trying to say is, before we got together I couldn’t care any less about children. It’s since I’ve been with you that I’ve been craving for it. And I remembered that feeling Jimmy had when he thought back about his wife or his daughter, and somehow I wanted that for myself.”

“So you went looking for her?” Dean concludes. Castiel nods.

“I went looking for her, mostly because I needed her safe. It’s some strange instinct I’ve taken over from Jimmy, and I can’t shake it off.”

And now Dean nods, only slightly.

“Listen, Cas, what if I tell you now that we _could_ have children, despite our agreement?”

Castiel looks up slightly with his eyes wide open. Is Dean suggesting what he thinks he’s suggesting? Castiel could never ask that from Dean; not ever. Besides, he’s not sure what powers a Nephilim could have since none has ever been alive long enough to have its powers studied (except maybe for the one he killed…).

“I can’t ask that of you, Dean,” Castiel tells him, grabbing the hunter’s hand and lifting it up to his lips to press a soft kiss on it. “I love you, no matter what. You don’t need to do something you don’t want to.” And Castiel leaves it at that. There’s no need to bring up this conversation every time one of them feels a little sad about the lack of kids in their lives. He can see on Dean’s face that he, too, has given up on the subject.

Still, his expression looks troubled.

“It’s just- you need to know that you won’t _ever_ be able to replace him, no matter how hard you try,” Dean mutters. It’s a stinging comment, but that doesn’t make it any less true. He knows Claire thinks he’s responsible for Jimmy Novak’s death – he really is, actually.

“I am aware of that,” Castiel answers. He squeezes Dean’s hand for a moment before letting go. The hunter resumes eating on his burger, and after that, nothing more is said on the subject.

Eventually, they agree that there’s no more chance Claire would return here. It’s too risky for her to even show her face here, so for a moment Castiel wonders why exactly it is that Dean wanted to wait here in the first place.

After joining back up with Sam and Lauren, they do find out that it isn’t the first time Claire has escaped out of the institution. The two explain that Claire had been friends with a boy called Dustin Tate, and that the chances are high that she might be hiding out at his place – where ever that might be. The only tip about that guy they’ve given them is that he works the evening shifts at the Weiner Hut.

At the mention of that specific restaurant, Castiel notices Dean’s face getting grimmer for a moment.

“What’s wrong, my love?” the Angel asks him. Dean just shrugs for a moment, trying to shake it off him but failing at it.

“That Angel, Alfie? Samanandri- Samdrj-  Samna- whatever, his vessel used to work in a place like this,” Dean explains shortly. Castiel nods, remembering how Dean had been taken aback by the death of Samandriel, who was killed by his hands, under the command of Naomi.

By the time evening falls, it’s already dark in Pontiac. Cars are quickly passing by to get home as soon as they can, and slowly, the streets are emptying. With fifteen minutes to spare, Dean enters the diner with the intention of buying himself some food. Nobody really says anything about it. Lauren sits herself back down in the car, tired of standing all the time. Sam comes to stand between the diner and the little night shop next to it, greeting the customers that come and go. Cas, though, leans back against the wall, unintentionally hiding himself. Some people that pass by startle when they suddenly see him standing there, but with a friendly nod Castiel calms them down again. There’s no need for them to be afraid of him. That’s not what he wants.

Castiel looks up when Sam suddenly calls out the name of the person they’re waiting for, and indeed, a young boy wearing a white and red uniform comes walking past him. He pushes himself off the wall to come closer as well.

“Nah, man,” the boy answers with a grin on his face. He walks straight forward until Sam puts a hand on his chest.

“Oh really?” he asks, but before anything else can be said, Castiel grabs the back of his jacket to turn him around slightly. With just one short look at his name plate, he can see that they’ve got the right guy.

“Yes, you are,” he grumbles out, pulling Dustin along until he’s pushed against the wall Castiel was leaning against earlier. He doesn’t care at all if the boy looks scared to death. There’s no need to feel sorry for a guy that might know where Claire is.

He hears light footsteps in the background, probably Dean. “And you’re gonna tell me where Claire Novak is.”

The anger inside of him grows stronger with the second. He barely notices it when he’s put his hand on Dustin’s throat and pulls him up, almost choking him. The panic in the boy’s eyes multiplies. There are light gasps coming out of his mouth.

“Now,” Castiel urges on.

“I’d do what he says, he doesn’t always know his own strength,” Dean comments, mouth clearly filled with food. “It’s hot, yes, but also very dangerous.” Castiel tries his best to ignore him, only barely managing it without gently lifting up the corner of his mouth. Even when he’s so angered like this, his husband always manages to make him smile.

“Dude, seriously?” Sam asks his brother, disgust thick on his voice. That’s enough of that, they need an answer soon. Preferably before the boy passes out from lack of air.

“O-okay!” the boy then shouts, barely managing with his throat cut off. When Castiel feels a hand on his shoulder, he relaxes a bit, dropping the kid back down on the ground so he can catch his breath again. They give him a moment to recover, but not too long.

“Talk,” Castiel bites. The boy lifts his hands in the air and continues to gasp for air.

“Claire is helping us getting the money we need. She’s going to rob a convenient store in about now,” he rattles out, tripping over his own words. Castiel can feel his face heat up, and it’s not from embarrassment or anything like that. His hands ball into fists, and if he doesn’t get his heart to calm down right now, he fears for the well-being of this boy.

“Where. Is. She,” he breathes out. And now, instead of talking, Dustin points a finger towards a small shop on the other side of the street. They see a hooded figure – a girl – stepping inside, trying not to look suspicious but failing miserably at it. When Castiel lets go of Dustin, he practically pushes him back against the wall. He crosses the road without checking if it’s safe, and almost gets hit multiple times. He can hear Dean call out after him, but he doesn’t listen.

Right now, all that matters is Claire.

He finds her standing at the sauces. She seems to be hesitating about going through with this, but the moment she starts walking forward, he knows she’s made her mind. He quickly cuts right next to her before she storms by, grabbing her arm the moment he notices the gun in her hand. Claire makes a startled noise, turning around with her blue eyes opened wide.

Nothing is said; Castiel can’t even form any words to express how he’s feeling right now. He’s angered, disappointed, but sad at the same time. Sad that this sweet, little girl had ended up feeling forced to rob a convenient store for another person.

He knows the clerk grows suspicious when they remain standing there, in complete silence. There’s a man, wearing a black leather jacket and black jeans, and then a girl, wearing a black hooded sweater, and they’re both just staring at each other. They should probably get out of there before the guy sticks the police on them.

“Excuse us,” he tells the man, pulling Claire by the arm to leave the shop. She rips herself free the moment they’re outside again, but doesn’t start running away. The hood is pulled from her head as she moves forward.

“Claire, wait!” Castiel calls out for him.

“Screw you,” Claire counters.

“Whoa, hey, Miley Cyrus, settle,” Dean comments. Both Castiel and Claire look up, surprised to find both Dean and Sam leaning against the Impala. Somehow, Lauren isn’t there with them, which shortly makes Castiel wonder where she might be.

“Eat me, Hasselhoff,” Claire throws back at Dean. The hunter looks taken aback for a moment, raising his eyebrows and making an impressed face. When Castiel comes to stand next to Claire, Sam starts talking.

“Claire, hold on a second. Look, my name’s-“

“Sam,” Claire finishes for him. “We’ve met, remember?”

She shoots one questioning look towards Dean, who just shrugs and points at his breasts, making a ‘what can you do about it?’ gesture with his hands. It’s then that Claire seems to understand who Dean is.

It doesn’t matter, though. This isn’t about Sam or Dean. This is about the fact that Claire had a gun in her hand, and was storming towards the clerk, with said gun ready to be shooting with.

“Claire,” he gets out, barely controlling his anger. “You were going to rob that convenient store?”

“So?” Claire asks nonchalantly, as if it’s not such a big deal as Castiel makes it to be.

“’So?’ So… it’s- it’s wrong!”

“You want to talk to me about wrong?” Claire asks bitterly. There are tears swelling up in her eyes. “You killed my dad, and then got married in his body. Is that ‘wrong’ enough for you?”

And then, the air is pushed right out Castiel’s lungs. The accusation is so strong, so close to the truth that he barely can find anything to counter that with.

“No, I didn’t kill your father,” Castiel mutters, but he knows he doesn’t sound convincing at all.

“Really? Because without you, he’d still be here. And my mom would still be around.”

And she’s so right that it hurts. Hurts that he caused such a big rift in her family. Hurts that she resents him for it all. Everything just… hurts. He takes a step forward with his hands raised, already starting to form an apology, but before anything can really leave his mouth, there’s a gun pointed at him.

“Whoa whoa whoa, Claire, put down the gun!” Dean gets out in panic. Castiel can see him walking towards her with his hands raised as well, slowly trying to reason with her.

“What? It won’t even hurt him. He’s an Angel,” Claire grits out.

“He may be an Angel, but right now he’s more human than anything else. Do you really want to have somebody’s death on your conscious?” Dean asks her. Claire shoots him a short glance, and Castiel can pinpoint the exact moment she seems to catch the wedding ring on Dean’s finger. One short look back at Castiel’s hand, and then the connection is made. In one smooth turn, she points the gun at Dean instead.

“Maybe I should just shoot you, instead,” she says.

“Whoa, hey, come on!” Dean complains, hands raised in the air some more. Next to Dean, Sam tries to reason with her, telling her to wait. But Castiel can see how the younger Winchester’s pleas fall onto deaf ears.

“Why? Like you don’t have it coming? You stood there while this monster took my dad,” she explains. “And now, apparently, you got married to him, as well?”

Then Claire lowers the gun again, and turns towards Castiel.

“I used to pray to you, Castiel,” Claire starts explaining. “Every night, I would beg you to bring him home safe.”

“I know,” Castiel answers. He remembers it well enough, but back then, it didn’t matter to him. He had a mission, and he was focused on it. Humanity didn’t really matter that much to him, back then. _Claire_ didn’t matter to him, back then. 

But now she does, and she resents him for it.

“You know…” Claire states, clearly on the edge of crying. “My father was a good man. In what messed up world does he have to die and you get to live?”

“I’m sorry,” Castiel tells her, shaking his head because he knows those words aren’t enough, and won’t ever _be_ enough.

“No, you feel guilty. There’s a difference.”

It’s better not to say anything else. Dean gives Cas a long, apologizing look. Castil appreciates it, he really does, but it doesn’t help anything in this case. No words, no deed can every undo what pain Castiel has caused to the Novaks.

“So, what? Now you run back to Randy? The guy you steal for?” comes another voice from the side. From the streets, Lauren suddenly walks into the alley, hands leaning on her hips and her face strong and emotionless.

“How do you know about that?” Claire asks in surprise.

“Dustin,” Lauren explains shortly. Claire rolls her eyes and shifts uncomfortably on her feet, obviously wanting nothing else but to get away from there as quickly as possible.

“Claire, that man is using you,” Castiel tells her. Claire turns back to him sharply, eyes fuming with hatred.

“He was there for me,” she starts. “When things got bad – and they got _real_ damn bad – he was there when no one else was. _He’s_ my family! And you’re just… you can go to Hell.”

And this time, when Claire storms off in anger, nobody stops her. The four of them watch her as she walks away, into the distance. There’s nothing more to say, anyway. Dean is the first one to move again, taking a few steps towards Castiel and embracing him into a tight hug without having the Angel to ask for it. Castiel feels like he wants to cry, but he knows he shouldn’t. He has no reason to be sad here. He’s the bad guy.

He should never have gone after Claire in the first place.

There’s not really anywhere they could be going. It’s too far a drive right now to return back to the bunker, but Castiel feels a little restless, too, so returning to the motel is also not really an option for him. The four of them agree when Lauren says she’s going to get back to her room to catch up on some sleep. Dean just reveals he’s taking his brother and his husband to a bar, and nothing more is added to that. They part ways – Lauren takes Castiel’s car, and they take the Impala – and make a short drive to the first bar they come across to. It’s filled with people, celebrating the end of the week. It seems tropical-themed as well. Castiel looks at the palm trees in wonder. The walls are colorful, and there’s tropical music playing in the background as well.

Castiel finds three empty seats at the bar, guiding the other two there. The bartender sees them arriving and comes closer, waiting for their order.

“Give me a shot of…” he starts, but then he finds that he doesn’t know what the hell he should even ask. Usually it’s Dean that orders their drinks whenever they go out together.

“Two whiskeys and a coke,” Dean says, surprising both Castiel and Sam. Sure, Dean’s been holding off on the alcohol for a while now, but that didn’t mean that he would pass one by whenever they were out. Either Dean doesn’t notice their surprise, or he just doesn’t care about it.

“Cas, don’t beat yourself up, man,” Sam starts after the three of them are seated. Castiel is sitting between the brothers, and when he feels Dean’s hand going for his, he relaxes only a little bit. “Claire was…”

“Right,” Castiel finishes. “She was right. Who am I to tell her how to live her life?”

“Well, somebody needs to,” Dean assures him. He squeezes Castiel’s hand for a moment before letting go again, resting his hand against the wooden counter of the bar. “It’s not like we’re talking about Mother Teresa here. The girl just about knocked over a Gas ‘n’ Sip. She’s got issues.”

“Because of me,” Castiel urges on. Dean turns his head towards the Angel, looking slightly annoyed.

“Well, you are wearing her old man’s meat suit, babe. Probably didn’t help.”

Castiel doesn’t miss the disapproving glare coming from Sam, to which Dean just shrugs. He doesn’t like situations like there; there’s a problem right in front of him, and he’s just… unable to fix it. To make a change.

“I thought I could make it up to her,” Castiel confesses. The disappointment is still thick in his voice, but he can’t control it. He knows he couldn’t wish to have Claire see him as her dad, but to be hated this much… It makes Castiel feel so uncomfortable that he would just crawl out of his body and fetch back Jimmy from Heaven so he could give Claire back her father.

“I don’t think you can,” Sam admits truthfully. “I mean, Jimmy was her father, and to some people, that’s… that’s everything, you know?”

“No, I don’t,” Castiel gets out. “I never knew my father. He was distant to say the least.” But then he turns his head towards Dean, who’s staring straight ahead of him. “What about you? Did you love your father?”

And Dean throws a short look at Sam, silently communicating with him before turning his gaze back to Cas. Then there’s a short nod.

“With everything I had,” he admits.

“Yeah, yeah, I mean, it wasn’t always easy, but yeah,” Sam adds to it. They don’t exactly sound sure about it, but still there’s a truth in their voice that tells Castiel that they mean it.

“I mean, look. John Winchester’s not going to win any ‘numer one dad’ awards, you know? But… damn if he wasn’t there when we needed him.”

And so, both Sam and Dean start telling a story about their past. They explain how they went to New York, and how Dean had snuck out during the night to go to some club called the CBGB – whatever that might be. In any way, they got Dean drunk and high from the pills, and eventually, John Winchester arrived to get him out. When they finish their story, Sam takes a small sip from his whiskey, while Cas throws his back completely, not leaving anything in the glass. Dean, though, doesn’t even touch the bottle.

“He saved you,” Castiel states after a moment, feeling light-headed all of the sudden. Oh, right, he’s practically human, meaning that he can get drunk again.

“Yeah, and you know what he got for that?” Dean asks. “Me whining about how much he embarrassed me. Me telling him that I hated him. But then he stopped and turned around, and he looked at me and said ‘Son, you don’t like me? That’s fine. It’s not my job to be liked.’”

“It’s my job to raise you right,” Sam finishes with a smirk on his face. Dean stays quiet for a few seconds, just staring at Castiel strangely. For a moment, it’s like his mind is somewhere else, trying to think in a way too crowded bar.

“Yeah, and he did,” Dean then mutters. He finally picks up his bottle of coke and takes a short swing out of it, but doesn’t turn to look back at Castiel. The Angel _does_ feel a hand, comfortingly caressing his thigh in assurance. Castiel just sighs in worry.

“Do you think Claire is in trouble?” The Angel asks.

“She’s hanging out with a guy named Randy,” Dean says in return. Then he nods lightly. “She’s in trouble.”

 

* * *

 

 

They agree to return to this Randy’s house, having received the address from Lauren, who apparently has been questioning the boy during the time that they went to get Claire. It’s not too far, but Claire would still have had to take a cab to get there in the first place, meaning that it could have slowed her down a bit.

Dean’s face is sharp and hard while he’s driving. For a small moment, Castiel thinks he should be worried. Why is Dean so bitter? What could have happened that made him so… like this?

He’ll find out soon enough, Castiel thinks. As soon as they saved Claire, and they’re back in the bunker, he will take his husband back to the room and get everything out of him. Every last bit that seems to be bothering him will be revealed, and they’ll work on it, together.

Upon their arrival at the house, Castiel has to admit that it isn’t the ugliest house there is. If he would just have passed by, he could have thought a small family of four would have lived here, with working parents and kids that would have high grades.

Not a man that uses orphan children to do his dirty work.

At least they are still polite enough to knock on the door, to give this Randy a chance of handing Claire over with no trouble. Or, at least, that’s what he agreed to with Dean before he got out of the car. But he didn’t promise anything, so, when the door opens, Castiel can’t help but let his fist collide with the face of the man that appears from the other side.

“Dude!” Dean calls out to him, but Castiel ignores him. He marches inside the house, finding there are multiple men inside, one of them seated on a chair with a knife pointed towards him. The one closest to Cas starts to come towards him, but from next to Cas, the Angel can hear a gun being lifted.

“Don’t,” Sam warns the guy, pointing the gun at the man, making him stop on his tracks with his hands in the air.

“Back it up,” Dean adds to that, lifting his gun as well.

Castiel looks around. There are many people inside this room, but so far, there’s no Claire to be seen. That could mean multiple things, and Castiel doesn’t like any of them.

“Where’s the girl?” he asks loudly towards the man seated in the chair. The guy lifts his eyes up, staring at the stairs behind Cas, and the moment the Angel turns around there’s a loud scream coming from upstairs.

“Claire!” Castiel shouts, moving into action right away. Before anybody else can say anything, the Angel is already halfway upstairs, shouting out the girl’s name. She needs to know that she isn’t alone anymore; that he’s there, and that he’ll help her.

It doesn’t take long to find out from which room her screams come from, and with one strong kick he breaks the door open. The moment he walks inside, he finds a bearded man leaning over the young girl, who is lying on her back in the large bed. The man looks surprised, to say the least, but that gives Claire plenty of time to kick him hard in the face, sending the man tumbling back with a pained groan.

“You son of a-“ Claire starts cursing, sending her foot a few more times hard in the man’s stomach as soon as he’s fallen onto his back. The man lets out more noises, clearly hurt by the hits he’s receiving. Claire just looks furious. Castiel realizes she’s out of control when she doesn’t stop kicking.

“Claire!” he shouts, grabbing the girl’s arm to snap her out of it. The girl makes a sharp turn around, finally facing Castiel again. There are tears mixed with black eye-shadow rolling over her cheeks. She looks so vulnerable that, for a moment, all Castiel wants to do is to hold her into his arms and tell her that everything will be alright, that she’ll be safe.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he pulls her arm, glad she’s coming along without a fight. He leads her through the hallway, and when they go down the stairs, he makes sure he’s not going too fast. If Claire were to trip and fall, Castiel would surely go down with her.

They rejoin the Winchesters downstairs, but before Castiel can get her through the door, the girl pulls away, closing in on the man that must be Randy.

“Randy,” Claire confirms, sounding so betrayed that even the man on the chair has to look down in shame. That’s serves him right. He’s not worthy of even being in the same room with Claire.

“Get her out of here,” Dean instructs Castiel. The Angel doesn’t have to be told twice. He takes Claire’s arm again, pulling her away from Randy and the other guys. In the corner of his eye, he can see Sam following them outside, gun still pointed towards the men.

He’s glad they parked the car right in front of the house. The moment he reaches the Impala, he pulls the door open from the backseat, allowing Claire to get inside. He quickly follows her inside, seeing how Sam takes a place in the passenger seat before him.

Claire’s tears have stopped rolling down, but she still looks scared and shocked.

“Are you okay?” Castiel asks, worried that she might be hurt.

“Yeah,” Claire responds, though, and before Castiel knows it, both her arms are wrapped around him and her head is resting against his chest, holding him in a tight embrace in search for comfort. Castiel just lets the instincts he didn’t know he had do what they think is right.

Castiel doesn’t know how long they’re sitting like this together, but he does know that Dean has been inside for a tad bit too long. He can quietly hear Claire sobbing next to him, but otherwise there’s no sound from inside the house.

That is, until the screaming starts.

Sam is the first to notice, turning his head back towards the building, and getting back out of the car in just a matter of seconds.

“Claire, wait here for a second,” Castiel asks the girl, letting go of the hug to follow the older Winchester back inside. When he hears the door of the car slam shut behind him, he knows Claire has followed them.

Castiel doesn’t pay attention for a moment, so he startles when he suddenly bumps against Sam, who’s still standing in the doorway. For a moment, Castiel wants to ask what’s wrong, why they don’t get inside, but then he sees it.

All the bodies scattered around, with their eyes burned out, flesh still burning. All of them are dead, obviously killed by another Angel. And in the middle is Dean, kneeling down on the floor. His breathing is fast, and somehow he seems to be trembling. When he opens his eyes, there’s another surprised gasp coming out of Sam’s mouth.

Dean’s eyes are glowing blue.

Like an Angel’s would have.

A loud scream reveals that Claire has caught up with them as well. She screams as soon as she sees the first body, hands reaching for her face while new tears are forming in her eyes. She bows forward and turns around, hiding her face away against Castiel’s chest to be spared from the sight around her.

It’s not exactly a blood bath. There’s no trace of red anywhere but on Dean’s forehead. The five bodies are just scattered around, no soul left in their bodies since they’ve been burned out. Next to him, Sam drops his gun and hides it back in the pocket of his pants, finally, but slowly, making his way towards his brother, who is now just staring ahead of himself.

“Dean, are you there?” Sam asks. He stops moving while he waits for any kind of response. When, after a few more seconds, no answer comes out of Dean, Sam takes a few more steps.

“Dean? Dean, listen to me,” Sam says, eventually kneeling down in front of Dean once he’s close enough. He puts his hands on the hunter’s cheeks, trying to hold his face steady so they can look into each other’s eyes. Castiel wants to warn Sam, wants to take his place because this might be very dangerous, but the hold Claire has on him is so strong that he might not let her go without having to use some sort of force, and he doesn’t want to panic her even more.

“Dean, come back to us!” Sam almost screams. Castiel feels Claire shiver inside his arms, and he holds her a little tighter, eyes still stuck on his husband and his brother.

Slowly but surely, the light in Dean’s eyes seem to be fading, bringing back some recognition in Dean’s expression when he looks back up at Sam with tired eyes.

 

 

“Dean, tell me you _had_ to do this,” Sam begs of him. Dean’s face starts to shake in Sam’s hands, like he tries to get out of his hold but is too weak to really pull that off.

“They attacked us, Sammy,” Dean whispers out tiredly.

“Us? You were alone in here, Dean!” Sam counters, sounding angry, now. Dean winces a bit at the volume of his voice, and so does Claire.

“I’m not alone, Sam,” Dean mumbles out, Castiel can barely hear it. “They were gonna hurt the kid.”

Both Castiel and Sam start to look around, searching for this kid Dean might be talking about. Eventually, Sam lets Dean go and gets up, making his way to the stairs to check on the first floor, before Dean stops him again.

“No, Sam, he’s not upstairs,” Dean breathes out. Then his eyes look up and lock with Castiel’s. The glow is now completely gone, and instead he’s faced with an apologetic expression from the Hunter seated on the floor.

“ _Our_ kid, Cas. I’m Pregnant.” And after that, Dean loses consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't be shy to leave a comment for tips and suggestions. It really helps out a very insecure girl.


	19. Sacrifices have to be made to build a family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> \- Doctor's appointment for Dean (and yeah, I did my research on it!!)  
> \- Mentions of abortion  
> \- Metadouche  
> \- Probably a lot of typo's. Sorry, I'll rid all the chapters from them as soon as I've finished the story. Also, I'm still in search of a beta. If anybody's interested, feel free to contact me ^^  
> I also changed some things, such as implying strongly that it's winter while the episodes never really did that. It's mostly so I can follow my timeline, but it's also so I won't just plainly copy out the episodes further. Most of the episode-chapters will have big differences from now on, both in the dialogue as in the surroundings.

_A few hours later,  
Men of Letters, HQ_

Dean’s been awake for a while now. He doesn’t know how late it was until everything went black, neither can he remember ever been brought back to the motel.

He can see that Cas has thrown his stuff in this room, but so far there hasn’t been any sign of him despite it being three a.m. already. Dean doesn’t know if it’s because the Angel is angry, or that he’s afraid.

It wouldn’t surprise him if Cas would be angry. Dean, too, is angry at himself for not being able to tell Cas sooner. He had planned on saying something at the restaurant, and he had been so close to confessing until Castiel started talking about Dean not needing to do something he doesn’t want to do.

He can’t really remember the fight between him and the men. All he remembers is a high, buzzing sound in his ear the moment that guy’s foot hit his face, and this intense heat growing inside of him. In his head, the same sentence kept on repeating itself; _Protect the kid, protect the kid_. And he did, killing five other men in return.

Dean takes a look at his hands, trying to find anything different on them. He was able to smite those people with these hands, but there’s just nothing strange to see on his skin or anywhere else.

But still, these hands did kill, and that’s wrong. Dean balls them into fists and slams them down onto his thighs in anger.

Maybe he should walk around a little, try and find Sam or Cas, find out what happened with Claire, or if Lauren has joined them on the trip home or if she’s still in Pontiac, sleeping safely in the motel.

So Dean stands up, trying to calm his mind when his hands uncurl again. Light beams are not suddenly going to emerge from his fingertips. He’s completely safe.

Dean walks through the hallway in a slow pace, mostly to keep his heartrate down to a normal state. The lights are out, meaning that Kevin, Linda and Crowley must all still be sleeping. At the end of the hallway, though, there’s a small light coming from the main room. It’s where Dean’s intending to go anyway, so he heads there. The closer he gets, the better he can hear Cas talking to Sam.

“She barely speaks to me. She’s like a wounded animal, just watching me,” Cas tells Sam, worry thick on his voice. Dean doesn’t like that sound, not even in the slightest, but somehow, he doesn’t feel ready to show himself just yet. There are light footsteps, too, meaning that the Angel is restless, needing to walk around to keep himself from going crazy. It’s so typical Cas that Dean doesn’t need to see him to know it’s him in the first place.

“Look, Cas, you know what? You really tried to do the right thing last night. You did,” Sam says from a little further away. “This guy Claire was hanging with, uh, Randy? All he did was use her.”

Sam has a point. Why else would a man, filled with debts needing to be payed, approach a young girl nobody would miss – okay, that’s harsh to say, but let’s face it, it’s also true – if it’s not for personal gain? For family, he was pretty quick on ‘selling’ her off to that jerk, allowing him to go his merry way on her. Disgusting, nasty. That bastard!

“Yeah, well, she thought he was kind, and for that she loved him,” Cas answers lowly. “Shows how little kindness there was in her life.”

Then there’s a short silence, quickly disturbed by Cas again.

“You know, whatever Randy did, he didn’t deserve-“

“No, yeah, I know. I hear you,” Sam interrupts him, keeping Cas from saying the words. Dean knows immediately what they’re talking about, but it’s like neither of the two really dare to say it out loud. “So, what? It’s a side-effect? Did he get your Grace inside of him? How does it work?”

“I do not know much of the Nephilim, neither about their birth or any process that comes before that. Our best chance would be to get something out of Gabriel, but the odds of her showing up again are low.”

Dean can’t see it, but he knows Sam is nodding.

“Now, in any way, Dean is more dangerous than ever. That was-“

“That was what?” Dean interrupts his brother, tired of listening to their conversation. The moment he shows himself, Sam pushes himself from the table, turning around to face his brother walking up the stairs. A little further away, Cas is just staring at him, not in anger but also not extremely lovingly at the moment. Dean can’t blame him.

“It was a massacre, that’s what it was,” Dean finishes Sam’s sentence then, feeling the hatred towards himself boil up even more. “That was a power I couldn’t control going crazy on defenseless humans I could have easily just scared off.”

“The child has to go, Dean,” Cas suddenly says, earning Dean’s fullest attention. The hunter widens his eyes in surprise, and almost on disappointment. But, somehow, he knows Cas has a point.

“Well, then, let us make an appointment at the hospital – oh wait, we can’t! Because only an Angel can remove the kid and your powers are fried!”

Dean doesn’t mean to be so rude, but Cas has to understand how useless they all are in this situation. Gabriel thought things through before acting, and now slowly every bit of her plan is coming to pieces. It almost makes Dean admire her talent of thinking ahead of herself.

“Then we get another Angel,” Cas counters bitterly. “We get hundreds of them, I don’t care, Dean! We don’t know what this pregnancy might do to you! No Angel does!”

“So we ask somebody who does,” Dean adds calmly. “Look, I’m not really jumping at having to do this for the sake of Heaven, but come on, Cas. That’s our kid in there.”

And Castiel looks torn at that, because he obviously doesn’t know how to feel about that. It’s like a part of him still tries to convince himself that the kid is evil, and that it will be dangerous.

“Gabriel won’t show herself just to answer our questions,” Castiel then says, lowly. His eyes make a short glance downwards, resting on Dean’s stomach. It’s still too early to see anything, only two months in the pregnancy, but somehow, the three of them are now very aware that this is real.

“So, you still have friends in Heaven? Ask any of them to help us out?”

And Castiel nods for a moment. He doesn’t speak, not at all, but both brothers look at him expectantly, waiting for him to say anything. Dean knows the others just slowly start to wake up when he hears movement in the hallway. This is probably the right time to update everyone on the stuff he knows. The stuff Gabriel told him.

Dean and Castiel stop their staring-contest when the first person walks in, said person being Kevin. He’s obviously still extremely tired, making a beeline for the coffee machine back in the kitchen before rejoining them in the main room. After that, Linda arrives, followed by Crowley and Lauren. If Claire is going to show, nobody is sure of. But, Dean wouldn’t be surprised if she decides to stay locked up in her bedroom for the remainder of the day.

“Good morning,” Dean greets Linda when she nods at him. No answer comes from the woman in return, which isn’t so abnormal since she hasn’t had her cup of coffee just het.

“So, now that you’re _all_ here, I have a few things I need to explain…” Dean mutters carefully. Kevin nods his head towards the kitchen, suggesting that they have this conversation over there. Dean agrees; the food is there. So, they make their move, travelling from the main room towards the kitchen in just a matter of seconds.

Once there, almost everybody comes to sit down, while Lina does her work at the coffee machine, preparing cups for everybody who asks for one.

“So, a while ago, Kevin told me he’s got some news on the Prophecy,” Dean starts, looking at Kevin for a moment, seeing the Prophet nod lightly.

“Something about a new God replacing he old one,” he says carefully, weary of Castiel’s temper when it comes to blasphemy. But, instead, the Angel doesn’t show reaction in any way.

“Well, I can give you the full Prophecy,” Dean finally says after a long moment of thinking. Because he remembers the Prophecy by heart. It’s like it’s written inside of his brain, and he can see it in front of him, so clearly.

The others look up at him in surprise. Or, at least, everyone except for Castiel, does. Dean takes a deep breath, knowing they might be angry at him for keeping this for himself. In any case, he shouldn’t be keeping this for himself any longer. So, he finally starts explaining.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell us right away,” Kevin finally says after Dean is finished reciting the Prophecy out loud. Everybody is looking at him intently – though Crowley does seem bored, to be honest – as if they expect on hell of an explanation coming from him.

“What, was I supposed to come from my room, shouting ‘heya guys, I know the Prophecy, and by the way, I’m pregnant, but that’s just a part of it as well’?” Dean mocks, shaking his head in disapproval. Kevin lowers his head a little bit, but not much.  

“You could have told me in the diner,” Castiel finally speaks up from where he’s seated. Dean wishes he wouldn’t sound so… betrayed, or hurt. It aches inside of him, knowing that he caused that feeling towards the Angel.

“I was trying to, Cas,” Dean defends himself. “You wouldn’t even let me finish a sentence about it.”

There’s a moment where nothing is said, but Dean and Cas simply stare at each other (again), much to the annoyance of the other people in the room. It’s when Sam finally clears his throat that the both of them turn their gaze away.

“You know, I’m not really looking forward to being another pawn of God’s games, I’m really not. But if I have to choose between listening obediently or killing off my own child to rebel, my choice is easily made. And I know you don’t agree with me-“

“I do agree with you,” Lauren suddenly says. Her voice is low, which is actually very normal in the morning, and her eyes are red-rimmed from sleepiness. “You wish to save your baby, it’s a very understandable decision. Besides, who cares if you ‘follow through’ this Prophecy by bringing a child into the world? That doesn’t mean you have to stand by and watch said child becoming the next _God_ of this world, does it? Gabriel did say it’ll take multiple years for the Prophecy to be fulfilled.”

Sam and Castiel both frown at her, but Linda nods in agreement.

“Lauren has a point. Besides, it’s all you’ve ever wanted for as long as I can remember, Dean,” the woman tells him. It’s also very true. The dream of having a child has been very active inside Dean’s mind this past year. Right now, he’s given an opportunity, a chance, to start a family with Cas. He wouldn’t want that to be taken away from him even before he can have it.

“So the child stays? Is that what this is all about? Because if it’s all decided, I would go like to do something else right about now,” Crowley mutters out in annoyance. It doesn’t take long for Dean to understand what the man is talking about.

“Have you been visiting your mother?” Dean almost snaps. At the very beginning of becoming human, Crowley would have whimpered from fear, stuttered out a whiny apology for causing inconvenience. But now, despite being completely human, he’s still the old Crowley, meaning that all the touchy-feely stuff isn’t really his best suit.

“Maybe I have,” Crowley snarls bitterly. “What’s it to you? It’s not like I go and ask questions about your family all the time.”

“But you hate your mother?” Kevin wonders out loudly. Crowley already opens his mouth to react to that, but nothing seems to come into his mind, so he wisely shuts up and sits back in his chair with his arms crossed, waiting to be dismissed though this isn’t a briefing or anything. If Crowley wants to go, he can just go.

“We are straining from the actual problem here,” Castiel complains, voice raising in his anger. “We don’t know much about Nephilim; all I was told was that they were abominations and very dangerous, and that they needed to be destroyed, so that’s what we did without any question asked. Now it could have been a lie made by Michael at the time, but it could also have been the truth, and I, for one, am not willing to sacrifice this family for the slight chance that this child might be good.”

Dean wants to protest, he wants to scream at Cas, ask him why he cares so little about this… thing inside of him. But he doesn’t. Instead he stays calm.

“Then call in an Angel that knows about the Nephilim,” Dean says shortly. There _must_ be someone upstairs that knows enough to give them the information. It can’t be that there aren’t any Angels who haven’t seen Nephilim in action.

“There is one Angel that might know,” Castiel reveals, though by the sound of his voice, it’s not really a good thing. Then he looks up, face tense. “Metatron.”

 

* * *

 

 

_The next day  
Lebanon, Kansas, city Park_

 

He’s late.

That, or he won’t show.

Castiel wouldn’t blame him. It _is_ a lot to ask, and Inias might not have been able to succeed even if he would agree to help.

“ _Inias, it’s Castiel here. I would like to ask for a favor; I need to speak to Metatron, and I would need to do it alone. If you are willing to help, come to Lebanon City Park tomorrow evening at eight p.m., and bring Metatron with you.”_

Yeah, no, with that little information, even Castiel wouldn’t have gone through with it. Still, it isn’t bad to hope that the Angel will help. So, Castiel makes another turn, throwing a short look at Sam who’s seated a little further away, looking equally nervous the more time passes.

Nobody has really been a fan of the idea when Castiel first mentioned it. Even Dean had shuddered at the mention of Metatron’s name. The Scribe is sneaky and annoying, and no doubt will double-cross them the moment he gets the chance. But, and Castiel can’t believe he’s admitting to this, he’s their only chance of getting some straight answers. That, or they could try summoning Gabriel, but the ritual to do that will need a lot of time they don’t have.

When Castiel hears the fluttering sound of wings behind him, he turns around, finding, surprisingly, Inias and Kokabiel standing there, each holding one of Metatron’s arms. The Scribe himself has a bag on his head and is completely tied down, both hands and feet stuck together with cuffs engraved with Enochian sigils. There’s no way for the Angel to escape.

“Thank you, Inias,” Castiel says in a greeting. The Angel looks less than pleased, but he still manages a (fake) smile towards him upon hearing his words.

“I did as you asked,” Inias tells him. Castiel can see the hand gripping Metatron tighter. “But it’s a great risk.”

“I know,” Castiel assures him, hoping he doesn’t come over nervously. “I didn’t know who else to contact.”

“What is it, may I ask, you need his help for?”

Castiel would answer right away in other circumstances, but with how things are going in Heaven, he doesn’t dare to share this information with the Angel already. Besides, they’re not really the most enthusiastic kinds when it comes to an Angel-human hybrid.

“I can’t share that information with you, yet,” Castiel answers shortly. “But I assure you I will explain as soon as I can. He just holds the answers I need.”

“Very well,” Inias answers. Kokabiel lets go of Metatron, and Inias gives him a hard shove forward without letting him go. “You have precisely twenty-four hours before I come to retrieve him back here in _one piece_ , is that understood?”

Castiel nods, grabbing a hold of Metatron’s shoulder, preventing him from running away.

“You have my word,” Castiel promises. Then there’s another fluttering sound, indicating that the two Angels have left the park. Castiel removes the bag from Metatron’s head, finding the Scribe smirking up at him.

“Told you last time I saw you I’d get out of the slammer,” Metatron says, sounding smug. Castiel just rolls his eyes at him before pulling him along towards Sam, who has been waiting silently.

“It’s only temporarily, trust me,” Castiel swears. Then he nods towards Sam, and the hunter nods back.

“Oh, once again you’re trying to clean up a typical Winchester-problem?” Metatron says the moment he notices Sam standing there as well. Sam ignores him, but grabs Metatron’s other arm and guides him towards Castiel’s car ( _“No, guys! That jerk is not going to sit in my baby!”)._ After noticing them, Dean, too, gets out from behind the driver’s seat, face deadly serious.

Metatron’s eyes widen the moment he sees him standing there. Castiel doesn’t know if it’s because he can see the child inside of Dean, or if he’s just surprised by the gender change. It’s not really like Castiel cares, to be honest.

“Oh my,” Metatron says while being pulled along towards the car, practically being pushed inside while he resists. “There’s something different about you, Dean. Is it your hair?”

So now he’s joking… perfect.

Practically the whole drive home Metatron keeps complaining about how insulted he feels having to travel around in Castiel’s vehicle, but to make it worse, he also randomly throws in some jokes about Dean’s… transformation, let’s say. Dean, who has already been on edge since Castiel mentioned asking Metatron for help, surely is doing his very best in staying calm about this.

Though the drive isn’t that long, it still feels like a century has passed before they can finally get out again, which really means something in Castiel’s case. They have at least thought about putting the bag back on his head, so if he ever _would_ escape, at least he wouldn’t know where to find them.

They have spent the whole day Angel-proofing the second cell they’ve got, since they already got a witch locked up in the other one – and they really need to do something about that. Castiel has nothing against smiting her – or at least having someone-else to smite her – but as long as Crowley isn’t okay with that, they can’t do anything about it.

Inside the cell, Castiel feels even wearier than he normally does ever since he’s lost his powers, meaning that he will do everything to avoid walking inside that room completely. Once Sam and Dean have tied Metatron down completely, they leave the door open so Castiel can still participate in the questioning. The bag is once again removed from Metatron’s head, and the Scribe looks around in judgement.

“I have to say, I expected to be thrown into the dungeon,” he says. For a moment, Castiel wonders how he knows about that, but then he remembers that the Angel wrote a whole alternate version of their lives. Of course he knows about the dungeon.

“You can shut up, so I can ask the questions here,” Sam tells him dryly. Castiel can see him walk closer to him, suddenly kneeling down to, apparently, tightening the chain around him a little bit. “Your mission here is to provide information,” Sam adds.

“Oh, information does happen to be a specialty,” Metatron says, sounding proud to admit that. “Got about two billion fun facts up here. Of course, whether I choose to cough one up or not is another matter.”  Castiel once again rolls his eyes and urges Sam to go on with a nod.

“We need to know everything about the Nephilim. Everything that was ever written or seen by another being. We need to know all of it.”

Metatron’s head goes up in confusion. “What?” he asks, sounding truly surprised by the question. “Castiel destroyed the last Nephilim more than a year ago!”

“Well, apparently you missed one,” Dean mutters out bitterly. They agreed not to reveal the true story to the Scribe just yet, since they will be returning him to Heaven afterwards and he might tell everybody everything he’s heard here.

“Where did you find one?” Metatron wonders out loud. Castiel can’t really say whether or not he’s faking about the sureness of the Nephilim’s extinction. He might be playing them right here, so they should be cautious at the moment.

“On Mars!” Dean shouts angrily. “It doesn’t matter where we found it. We need to know everything about them before we actually kill it off. We need to know if it’s truly evil.”

There’s a new smirk on Metatron’s face tight then.

“I don’t really think you found one,” the Scribe says. Dean throws a short look at Castiel, still standing in the doorway. The Angel just shrugs, unable to provide any help from there. “I think this has more to do with that little light growing inside your body, Dean Winchester.”

Ah, well, so much for keeping it a secret. They could only have tried, right?

“Do you know about it or not?” Sam bites, voice incredibly low even for him. For a moment, Castiel feels the chills going through him, hoping he would never have this side of the younger Winchester against him one day.

“Maybe,” Metatron says, smirk growing wider.

“Of course he does,” Castiel adds to that. “He’s lived on Earth the period that there were multiple Nephilim walking amongst humans. He knows all about them.”

The three of them stare at Metatron, then, awaiting an answer that might actually help them.

“Okay, so maybe I do,” Metatron counters. “But if you expect any help from me, you better keep Dean away from here. I don’t want to even be in the same room with that abomination growing inside of him.”

And Dean almost literally growls. His hands reach out for Metatron, probably wanting to hit him in every way possible before Sam grabs a hold of his hands and stops him from going through with it. Dean’s breathing is hard, and his eyes are stuck on Sam with a mixture of betrayal and thankfulness on his face. Then he turns his head back towards Metatron.

“Don’t you dare call it an abomination ever again, or I’ll smash an Angel blade through your throat before you can even blink.”

And after that, Dean storms out of the room, thankfully going along with Metatron’s wishes. It’s not ideal, of course, but at least he’s tried.

Castiel waits to stay for the rest of the questioning, afraid that he might miss any of the information that is being passed through, but when Lauren suddenly comes standing next to him, he turns to look at her in question.

“What’s wrong?” Castiel asks. Lauren bites her lip from nervousness before opening her mouth.

“Claire ran away,” Lauren says. It isn’t surprising, really, but it’s still really inconvenient. With a small nod towards Sam, he makes the promise to return as soon as he can, before turning around to follow Lauren back into the main room.

Castiel doesn’t really know how to track her. He knows that Dean is able to get to Sam whenever he’s missing by tracking his cellphone, but that will probably not be possible for him to do. There’s maybe just one way to get even slightly close to her locations. He doesn’t like the idea of it at all.

“Crowley,” Castiel calls out when he finds the man seated at the table with a book in front of him. Crowley looks up in annoyance, clearly extremely bored at this current time.

“Yes, darling?” he says, voice mockingly sweet. Castiel can’t help but shudder for a moment when he hears the words. Crowley is just disturbing on so many levels.

“You know how to track another human being, right?” he asks. Crowley just sighs loudly, drops his book down, and looks up. His eyes look tired, and somehow, he seems to have lost weight. Isn’t he sleeping well, perhaps?

“I know, yes,” the demon says. “But why should I help you? In case you don’t remember, you have never really done anything to help _me_?”

Castiel grits his teeth together. This really isn’t the time for that. He should get going towards Claire right now, so he could return back to Sam and Metatron, and help out there as well.

“We allowed your sorry-ass in here in the first place,” Dean suddenly says from behind him. Castiel turns around in surprise, finding his husband walking towards them with a dark expression on his face. Automatically, his hand reaches for Dean’s, not just to have some sort of contact but mostly to make sure that he’s alright.

“Ah, Dean Winchester. Better not get too excited here, it’s not good for the baby,” Crowley jokes. There’s only dead silence in return, so eventually the man sighs and stands up. “Let me get some things.”

And with that, he’s on his way to the room where they keep all their weird stuff. It’s all been listed and ordered by name by Sam back when they first came here, so it won’t really be difficult for Crowley to find his way there. In their slight moment alone, Dean lifts up Castiel’s hand on his, and presses a soft kiss onto his skin before leaning against the table to face the Angel.

“How you doing?” Dean asks worriedly. Castiel just shrugs. What else is there to say? He feels conflicted, there are too many things happening here, and he doesn’t know where he should start with sorting them out.

“I’m fine,” he lies, but if the look in Dean’s eyes is indicating something, Castiel knows the hunter doesn’t believe him. Dean just sighs loudly, dropping his gaze to the floor. Then he puts his other hand on Castiel’s as well, pulling it down a little bit. Now it rests just above his stomach, not yet touching but so close.

“It’s six weeks now, isn’t it?” Castiel asks when he eyes his husband’s stomach for a moment. Dean looks up at him, but then nods, a light smile on his face.

“Six weeks since that night, yeah,” Dean answers. He tries to pull Castiel’s hand toward him, to let it rest on him, but Castiel’s arm doesn’t move despite Dean’s efforts. His eyes can’t leave the slight bump he’s seeing in front of him. Something is not completely right. Somehow, this is not really normal.

“Your stomach is bigger than it should be at six weeks,” Castiel explains, finally touching his husband where he wants it. He wants to reach out for his Grace, to see what’s going on inside there, but being weakened now when he has to find Claire isn’t really the best thing to do.

“What, are you suggesting that I’m fat?” Dean asks, obviously insulted by the comment. He pulls away from Castiel and crosses his arms together.

“No, Dean, I’m just worried that something might be wrong,” Castiel admits. “We don’t know anything about these kinds of pregnancies. Who knows what’s happening in there.”

Dean nods. There’s a long sigh escaping from his lips as his eyes wander down again. Once more, he leans against the table, taking Castiel’s hands in his own to pull him closer to him. Their foreheads are pressed together, but their eyes are closed. All they need right now is each other, the closeness they have right now.

“I hope everything you think is true about them is wrong,” Dean confesses in a whisper before pressing his lips to Castiel’s. The touch is soft and gentle, but it’s still so very welcome. Castiel lets go of Dean’s hands to hold on to the hunter’s face, not allowing him to pull away so soon.

They still get interrupted, though, when Crowley clears his throat upon entering the room. Quickly, the two pull apart, drying off their lips with their sleeves. Crowley just ignores them while he puts down all the ingredients and the map he’s found, and then he goes to the kitchen to grab a bowl.

After finding some matches, Crowley starts chanting a Latin incantation, dropping Claire’s name between the words, and then he puts the map on fire with a lit candle. Dean startles and takes a step back, but Castiel remains where he is. The fire is not a threat here.

“Out,” Crowley mutters then, and the flames go down, showing the burned edges of the map, revealing one small part that is untouched. Crowley rolls up his sleeves and points towards that small part. “There’s where you’ll find your little daughter,” he says.

Castiel nods in a thanks, getting out of the room with Dean following him out.

They take the Impala this time, at Dean’s request. The map indicated that Claire is still in town.

“I suggest we drive around a little bit, see if we find her wandering around?” Dean asks. Castiel nods, because there’s not much else that they can do. The chance that Claire would run away just to get into another motel in the same town is very low, so that idea is already scrapped.

The map didn’t show her exact location, but they do know in what part of the city she’s currently in, sparing them a lot of time of riding around with no success.

It still takes them about an hour to find her, though. They can see she’s constantly moving with a big suitcase scraping on the ground. Castiel recognizes the suitcase, she probably took it from the bunker before she left. The clothes are just some things Lauren went to buy for her so she’d at least have something to wear.

When Claire notices Castiel walking up to her, she rolls her eyes and stands up from the ground. There’s a loud sigh escaping from her mouth when her hands grab a hold of the suitcase again.

“I was hoping to be out of town before you found me,” Claire tells him bitterly. Castiel can’t find it in himself to be angry at her. It’s not her place, to begin with.

“I’m sorry if you didn’t like the room,” Castiel tries without really knowing what else to say.

“It’s not the room, Castiel,” Claire admits with a shaky voice. “It’s you. This isn’t going to work, I mean, come on. You look like my father, it his _his_ body, but he’s dead and I get it, you feel bad, but… you, whoever you are, you’re nothing to me.”

“Claire that’s not true,” Castiel corrects her. He tries to take another few steps forward, but Claire just takes a few back again to keep their distance. “I’m in a large part responsible for the way your life has unfolded. I have a responsibility to help you.”

But Claire shakes her head. “No,” she counters. “You don’t.”

“Claire, you have seen things, you’ve been through things no-one your age should have. And you are adrift, I wanna- I want to help you have a life!”

“I have a life, and I’m good with it,” Claire snaps back. “But what you mean is a normal life. Well, that ship has sailed.”

“Well, that doesn’t have to be the case, you’re still young,” Castiel corrects her. He’s not ready for her to just give up like that. He can’t have that happening. What would it make of him if he just lets her go like that?

“Stop talking to me like you’re my father,” Claire gets out, voice shaking harder now. There are tears in her eyes, ready to roll down her cheeks. “You killed my father. Then you got married in his body. And now your _husband_ has killed the last thing I had closest to family.”

“Are you speaking of Randy?” Castiel asks in confusion. “Family? A man had you in that room and Randy didn’t make a move to help you!”

Castiel is aware of the people that are looking at them when they pass by. They shouldn’t make such a scene like this in public, but when else can he really resolve this? It’s not like he’ll be able to get her back in the bunker without knocking her out, and that’s something he would never do unless really necessary.

“Maybe because he was at gunpoint,” Claire finishes off. “Dean Winchester is a monster.”

“Dean Winchester is _not_ a monster,” Castiel bites, unable to control himself from snapping at her. Just the fact that she’s talking like this about his husband makes him so angry that he barely notices how Claire flinches when he raises his voice. “He- he wasn’t in control of what happened that night. That is something _I_ have done to him, and we are working on a solution to-“

“You want me to trust you?” Claire interrupts him. “The fact that you just still tried to defend him just proves to me that I can’t.”

Then Claire starts to walk away, passing Castiel by without any more words. The Angel thinks about stopping her, about explaining to her what happened really. But, to be honest, even Castiel doesn’t know what happened last night. Somehow, the Nephilim inside of Dean took control of his body when he was in danger, and he killed off every human being in that room that was a threat. How could he possibly explain that to the young girl that is still grieving so much?

“Claire,” he still tries.

“No, Castiel!” Claire snaps. “I’m done!”

“Claire, let me at least… let me at least give you some money to get by?”

And Claire looks up at that, eyes wide in wonder. For a moment, it looks like she’s going to deny it, to refuse taking anything that Castiel offers her. But then, she sniffs once, rubs away a few tears from her face, and nods.

Castiel hands her enough money to last about two months. It’s better than stealing, he things, but he knows it won’t last. After taking the money, Claire at least lets out a silent thanks, and then a cab – she probably must have called for one before Castiel arrived – stops in front of her. Claire gets inside after Castiel helped her to get the suitcase in, and when she drives away, she doesn’t even look back at him.

 

* * *

 

 

_Meanwhile, Men of Letters HQ_

“Start from the beginning.”

Sam is already tired, even though the questioning has barely even started. Since Castiel left again, all he’s gotten from Metatron is just some more complaining about the humidity of the room, and how the cuffs are biting in his skin. So far, there hasn’t been anything on the Nephilim, which is the only reason they got him down here in the first place.

After fifteen minutes of just complaining and muttering, Lauren decided to join Sam inside, leaning against the wall to stay out of his way, but often adding a comment when Metatron tries to be the wise-guy. It’s probably after Lauren came to stand directly in front of him and started threatening his very existence that Metatron decided to play. Which is why he’s finally starting his story.

“There aren’t many things to be said about the Nephilim,” Metatron starts. “Angels don’t feel the need to have sex like humans does, so it’s not like many of them have been born in the past.”

“But there have been births of them, right?”

Metatron nods, face pained – or more disgusted, who knows.

“There was a time, before Lucifer was cast down, that the Angels were allowed down to help humans in need. Whenever a human prayed, an Angel that was best fit for the job was sent down to help, and in some cases, the humans were thankful.

“Now, the men sleeping with the Angels in female vessels, obviously nothing came out of that. But the women, when they expressed their thanks, more often than not did they end up pregnant.

“God didn’t say anything about it, instead he was _curious_ as to what exactly these creatures would become once they were brought on the world. So, the women carried the children, experienced the symptoms more gravely than a woman expecting a normal baby would have, and eventually, brought to Earth a Nephilim, part human, part Angel.”

“What happened with the women?” Lauren asks. Sam turns his head towards her to find her seated on the table with her hands resting on her lap. Her legs are dangling forward and back.

“They got sick during the pregnancy, might have suffered some weight loss, but they survived and recovered within days after the birth,” Metatron explains. Lauren nods. Sam lets out a relieved sigh. At least this means that Dean isn’t going to face a certain death at the end of this tunnel.

“And what about the babies?” Sam then asks. Metatron nods.

“They were pretty much harmless. Everybody loved them; they were always considered miracle children.”

“How so?” Sam asks.

“Despite their human side, Nephilim are stronger than common Angels – probably even stronger than Archangels – when they know how to use their powers.”

“Just like the hybrid between a demon and a human is stronger than a demon?” Sam asks, thinking back of Jesse. For a short moment, he wonders how that kid is doing.

“After a while, humans stopped asking the Angels for help. They had their own little wonders walking downstairs now, didn’t they? But the other Angels only saw them for what they really were; abominations. They were a dark spot on another Angel’s Grace, and eventually, Michael gave the order to eliminate them all.”

“And Castiel?”

“Castiel? He was one of the Angels that helped destroy them. But back then, orders were orders for him.”

Then they were silent. Sam and Lauren share a short look at each other, taking in all the information they’ve just received from the Angel stuck in the chair in front of them. There’s no reason for him to lie about this, and if there is, Sam can’t figure out what Metatron would possibly gain from it.

“How can you end a Nephilim pregnancy?” Sam then asks. Metatron opens his eyes widely and his mouth drops open in surprise.

“Wha- I didn’t take you guys for the type that would end such an _innocent life form_?” he mocks, showing a smirk on his face while he speaks. Lauren breathes out loudly through her nose and stands up again.

“How. Do you. End. A Nephilim. Pergnancy?” she grits out. Her hands are balled into fists so tightly that her skin loses all its color, but her face instead turns red. Metatron throws his head back to stay away from her.

“It can only be removed by the Angel that helped conceiving the thing. But with Castiel completely powered down, that won’t be an option.”

This could be a problem indeed. Castiel’s powers won’t be returned until Gabriel unblocks his Grace, and since Gabriel is the one that _forced_ this pregnancy on Dean in the first place, Sam’s sure she’s not going to be any help at all.

“What other symptoms are there?” he asks, suddenly thinking back of what happened two nights ago. “In case the carrier is in danger, what happens?”

“Ah, well, the Nephilim senses the danger, and its Grace will take control of the human temporarily to eliminate the threat.”

“So they’re dangerous?”

“No, they’re babies with superpowers,” Lauren corrects Sam. Her brown eyes find his, and she doesn’t let his gaze go. “Babies don’t know what the difference is between good or bad. It’s just trying to protect itself no matter the consequences.”

“So what, they’ll be a murder machine at the first few months after their birth, but with the proper education, they’ll be able to control it?”

“That’s what I would guess, yes,” Lauren admits. Sam nods again before lowering his head a little bit. He needs to think this over for a moment. So Dean _will_ get sick for a few months, but it won’t kill him. He should also stay away from any danger otherwise he could wipe out an entire town, and afterwards, they’ll have to make extra sure that the kid won’t kill them in an anger fit because it doesn’t understand what the difference is between good or right.

That’s just too much to take in at this moment.

A few hours later, after Dean and Cas finally return to the bunker, Sam explains everything to them. He starts with the history – one Castiel apparently wasn’t aware of anymore – and then continues with the other stuff like the weight-loss and sickness. Dean takes it in quite well, but Cas, on the other hand, just leaves the room in silence, probably not the biggest fan of going through with this.

Sam agrees with him, to be honest. They would just be a lot safer if the child would be removed – there’s surely another way for them to do it, they’ve managed to bend the rules multiple times. It can surely be done again.

“Ah, come on, Cas!” Dean calls out once Cas is out of the room. Dean throws his hands in the air in frustration and starts running after him. Sam, annoyed beyond words, chases his brother in return.

“Dean, I agree with Cas! Going through with this really sounds like a bad idea! You burned out a few people’s souls just because you got angry!”

“I didn’t get angry,” Dean counters without slowing down. Sam quickens his steps, but is unable to really catch up on him. “Those bastards were trying to hurt us, it was just self-defense.”

“Self-defense?” Sam asks loudly. “Since when is self-defense the same as smiting down a complete room of humans?”

“Did Metatron specifically say that they were evil?” Dean snaps. He stands still for a moment to shoot a short but angry look at his brother. Sam clears his throat for a moment before shaking his head. “So they’re not dangerous!”

“And we should just _believe_ Metatron?”

“It’s a better idea than killing my kid, yes!”

“That’s not a kid, Dean!” Sam finally cries out. Dean’s eyes widen in surprise, and his mouth falls open. “It’s a creature, stronger than even an Angel! Do you really want to risk the world’s safety to have the domestic life? You can adopt, if it’s a child you really want!”

Dean doesn’t answer anymore, but only lowers his head. His breathing is loud, and his shoulders go up and down, but there’s no other sound coming from him.

“I can’t do what you ask of me, here,” Dean confesses with a low voice. Finally, his eyes go up, connecting with Sam’s. “It might not have been planned, at all, and if I could go back in time to stop this, I would. But, Sam, I’m not killing an innocent life just for the minor chance that he might be dangerous.”

“Is that you talking, or the baby?” Sam asks bitterly. Dean just rolls his eyes and turns back around, continuing his search for Castiel, who is by now nowhere to be found.

“Damn it!” Dean curses, raising his hands to his head for a moment before making a complete turn and walking past Sam, not-so-accidentally bumping against him in his anger. Sam sighs loudly when his brother storms off. Everybody is angry at the moment, and it brings an awful lot of tension around here. Maybe they both need just a time-out, a moment to come to their senses and to clear their heads.

So Sam decides to return to Kevin in the library. At least he would be friendly enough to at least let Sam vent about all this crap happening around them.

Around the evening, it seems like everybody must have cooled off again, luckily. Once Sam finally dares to emerge from the library to get to dinner – a meal prepared by a frustrated Dean – nobody seems to be scowling. It’s not to say that the faces at the table are particularly happy, per se, but at least there’s no one that seems to want to rip out someone’s throat.

Linda and Lauren find themselves in a conversation about the law. Lauren starts telling her about a few cases she’s been on in the past, and Linda starts talking about a TV show about lawyers, and if anything about that is correct or not. Sam listens intently for a moment. This conversation interests him, seeing that he once planned on becoming a lawyer.

Next to him, Dean remains quiet, poking his fork in his meat but not really eating it. One seat next to Dean’s, Castiel is doing the exact same thing. The two don’t really look at each other at the moment. It’s like both aren’t really in there, instead just dreaming away.

“M, Cas,” Kevin suddenly asks, with his mouth still full of food. The whole table looks up at the Prophet. The conversation between Lauren and Linda comes to a stop. “Did you find Claire?”

But Castiel shakes his head, eyes lowered to the table. There’s a small sigh escaping from his mouth. “Claire is gone,” he answers. Sam can literally see everybody’s eyes go wide – except for Dean’s, who just nods slightly. “I don’t know, I should have stopped her. I’m certain she’s destined for more trouble and disappointment. She is so, _so_ full of rage.”

“Do you think maybe one of us should try talking to her?” Lauren asks after Castiel is finished. The Angel lifts up his head a little bit, and for a moment, Sam could swear there was a hitch in his breath. That could either indicate that he’s about to cry, or that he’s cold.

“I think… maybe Dean should reach out to her,” he reveals. Next to him, Dean shows the biggest frown he’s ever made, and he drops his fork and knife.

“Me?” he asks in confusion.

“Yes.”

“Seriously? I’m probably the last person she would want to hear from?” Dean counters.

“I thought there would be a connection; one extremely messed up human to another, you could explain why you murdered her only friend.”

If Sam didn’t know any better, he would say this is more Castiel trying to get Dean to feel guilty about his choices instead of actually giving a good reason to get the two to talk to each other. 

“Ah, well, yeah, when you put it like that,” Dean adds sarcastically. The whole table remains quiet in return. It’s clear that Dean is getting annoyed and frustrated again. Better to stay clear of that instead of risking another raging fit at the table. They’ve had enough of that. No matter how cuddly and lovey the two might actually be, whenever they fight, the whole _house_ hears about it.

“Also, thanks, for implying that wanting to save my child means I’m messed up. That’s, really, one of the best compliments you’ve given me, so far.”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that,” Castiel counters. He sounds tired all of the sudden. Sam can completely relate to that. He’s lived with his brother all his life, he knows how often it’s like walking on eggshells around his brother. “All I know is that she won’t speak to me.”

“What the Hell, why not?” Dean finally admits, but not sounding happy about it. He starts collecting his stuff onto his plate – still filled with barely-touched food – and starts to get up again. “I’m going to bed.”

“I’ll, uh, text you her number,” Castiel suddenly says once Dean’s at the door opening. The hunter turns around towards his husband in a small nod.

“Okay,” Dean confirms.

“I like texting,” Castiel adds. He already starts to type down on his little device, phone pad making noise while he types down words. “Emoticons…”

Once again, Dean turns around, only to show a confused and irritated expression. Then he shakes his head and leaves the room at last, leaving the others in the kitchen. For a moment, nobody speaks. Sam feels his appetite slowly disappearing as he realizes that this relationship between his brother and Cas has been on the rocks ever since he disappeared.

Now, it’s not like the two would suddenly go out and get a divorce because things don’t seem to work out at the moment. That’s completely the opposite of what Castiel would do, in fact. This thing the two have, it’s actually quite indescribable. It’s like ‘love’ doesn’t even begin to cover what Castiel feels for Sam’s brother.

But, right now, neither of them are happy. They have short moments where they hug and share a sweet and short moment – not like Sam really pays attention to said moments – but more often than not, lately, the two seem to be in this constant risk of having the one snap at the other for no apparent reason, and _that_ kind of breaks Sam’s heart a little bit. They were once such a good pair, completely carefree and happy, but now they’re both so weary of the other.

Then, Kevin starts asking the question everybody’s wondering about.

“Cas, are you and Dean alright?”

The Angel, who has just been staring into nothingness for a moment looks up again at the Prophet that dared opening his mouth at the table. He doesn’t look angry, not at all, but nobody misses the fact that his eyes are watery and red from upcoming tears. He manages to hold them back quite well, actually. Sam has to hand it to him that he’s learned to do that rather quickly.

“Of course, Kevin,” the Angel lies. He tries to pull off a smile – and _trying_ being the main word here, since it doesn’t look convincing at all. Probably even Castiel knows that nobody in that room really believes him.

Eventually, after another long silence, Lauren seems to be getting enough of it. She makes that pretty clear by slamming her knife and fork back down on the table and taking a deep breath.

“Okay, now you’ve got to tell me; why is it that you want the kid gone?” she asks. Castiel flinches upon hearing her question, but it’s so clearly meant for him so nobody else answers it. Sam can see Castiel biting his lip for a moment while he seems to be thinking to get his words right.

“Like I said; it could be dangerous,” Castiel finally brings out, but it’s weak, like after repeating it so often he seems to lose the conviction after that statement.

“But Metatron says it isn’t?” Lauren adds. She would know, since she’s been there with Sam most of the time. Whenever Metatron refused to say anything more, she would open her mouth and speak out a low threat his way to put him back on his place.

“And we really can believe Metatron on his word,” Castiel adds to that sarcastically. His brows curl together in an angry way, and there are crinkles forming around his eyes from squinting.

“Then _why_ did you even bring him here if he’s so untrustworthy?” Lauren almost shouts. Her hands slam loudly on the table, and her eyes bore deeply into Castiel’s as she stares him down angrily. It’s not the first time that Sam has seen her this way, but it’s safe to say that she scares him like this.

Nobody answers her, of course. The answer to that question is unclear for everybody at that table, so it wouldn’t be necessary to point that out even further. Suddenly Lauren turns her head towards Sam, making his heart jump a little faster – and not for the obvious reason. His mouth drops open, already wishing he wasn’t on the other side of that look.

“You’re supposed to be supportive for him, no matter what his choices are. That’s what family is for. That’s why he didn’t stop _you_ when you went after the Novaks.” That last part is again pointed towards Castiel. “His life is a complete mess right now, and the only good thing he feels like he has is his family.”

Then, Lauren sits herself back down on her chair, face furiously red, but still finishing off the dinner Dean made them. The others remain quiet, but, after ten more minutes, Castiel, too, stands up to leave the room, following after Dean at last.

 

* * *

 

 

_Meanwhile_

“Hey Claire, it’s me, Dean,” Dean says into his phone after hearing the expected beeping sound following after her voicemail greeting. “Listen, we need to talk. Call me as soon as you can… I… I need to explain some things.”

After that last sentence, Dean hesitates a little bit before pressing the button to hang up and send the message. There isn’t anything else he can say to her, but if she doesn’t answer, he could at least try calling her again in a few hours.

When his door opens, Dean barely looks up, knowing full well it could only be Cas since there was no knocking.

“Come to judge me some more?” Dean asks bitterly. The movement at the door stops, but Dean can hear a sigh coming from Castiel. Dean drops the phone on the mattress and claps his hands together before finally lifting his head up.

There stands Cas, face troubled but apologetic, staring right back at Dean. He remains standing at the door with his hands hidden behind his back, like he’s afraid of getting closer to him, unsure if it’s okay to make another move forward.

“Lie down on your back,” Cas then suddenly says, causing for Dean to widen his eyes in confusion. Did he hear that correctly? Is Cas really looking for sex right now? _Now?_ It’s, like, the worst time ever to even be thinking of that.

“’m not in the mood, Cas,” Dean answers truthfully, not trying to hide how tired his voice sounds. Nothing changes in Cas’s expression.

“I said lie down on your back,” he repeats, a little more urgently. Dean sighs for a moment before shrugging, deciding he’d best get this over with. He doesn’t want to fight about it since fighting seems to be all they’ve been doing lately.

So Dean scoots backwards for a moment until both his feet are on the bed. His head finds the pillow with no trouble, and his hands automatically comes to rest on his stomach in a matter of protection against anything that might be harmful.

His eyes are closed, so he doesn’t see Cas moving forward. He does feel the shift in the mattress when Cas comes to join him on it, and he winces when the Angel’s hands are suddenly on his, trying to pull them away.

“Cas, what-?” he starts to ask, but then suddenly there’s a finger on his lips, telling him to stop talking. With his eyes now opened again, he allows Cas to remove Dean’s hands from his belly, watching how the Angel just hovers above him, completely focused and probably slightly worried.

Then Cas places his own fingers on Dean’s stomach. The touch feels weird for a moment, but it’s not completely unwelcome. He’s completely quiet while he slowly caresses the skin, but Dean finds himself still enjoying this. Once again he lifts up his hand to entwine his own fingers with the Angel’s. They just remain like this for a moment. It’s a good position, and it’s extremely relaxing.

But eventually, Dean feels another shift in the mattress, and before he can check to see what happened, he feels the Angel’s lips on his stomach, softly kissing him underneath the shirt after he apparently pulled the shirt up. Dean takes a deep breath, squeezing Cas’s hand in reaction.

“I’m sorry,” Cas then murmurs without lifting his head. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t supportive. We’re supposed to be family, and I didn’t act like it the last two days.”

Dean just nods in reaction. He untangles one of his hands to lift it up to the Angel’s hair, and then he starts going through it affectionately.

“We can have a family, Cas,” Dean then whispers to him. “It’s what we’ve wanted for a long time, now.”

Cas then nods as well. He lifts up his head once more, resting his chin on Dean’s stomach and looking up at him affectionately.

“We might want to make an appointment with a doctor, soon,” Cas tells him. Their hands find each other, and the tips of Dean’s fingers slowly caresses over his skin.

“You’re right,” Dean responds, wondering why he hadn’t thought of that before. He’s what, about six weeks along now? It’s not like Dean knows a lot about these things, but he wonders if it’s about the right time now. He should maybe look it up later on.

“I’m still not sure if we can completely trust Metatron,” Cas suddenly says quietly. A sigh escapes from his lips, and his head turns away, breaking the eye-contact they’ve been having. Dean sits up a little bit to look at his husband, appearing so conflicted in front of him.

“Hey, hey, babe,” Dean calls out to get his attention. “You might not trust him, but at least trust me, okay?”

Castiel nods lightly, but doesn’t speak otherwise.

“I believe our child will be amazing,” Dean continues, explaining to Cas how he would see the kid in the future. “He’ll get your dark hair, and my eyes. When he’ll smile, it will be your smile on his face. He will speak multiple languages, he’ll will be super-smart, and he will be extremely popular with the girls.”

“And what makes you sure it’ll be a boy?” Cas asks jokingly. Dean just shrugs.

“Or she’ll be popular with the boys. But she won’t sleep around, ‘cause we’ll have taught her better than that,” Dean corrects, giving Castiel a quick peck on the lips.

“Aren’t we just the most responsible parents ever, in that case?” Cas grins, too, once more pressing his mouth to Dean’s before pulling the both of them down on the bed. Then, the two just look at each other. Dean still has fingers running through Castiel’s hair, but it seems to calm down the Angel. Cas closes his eyes after a few seconds, letting out a soft sigh from the head massage he’s receiving.

Their little moment gets interrupted the moment Dean’s cellphone starts ringing, sending vibrations against Dean’s leg. Dean sits up again to reach for it, grabbing the device and checking the number for a moment, before dropping his mouth open. His heart starts beating a little bit faster, and for a moment he wonders if he should actually pick up.

Cas urges him on, though, giving him big eyes and pointing towards the screen as an indication that he should answer the call. Of course, initiating the call had been Castiel’s plan, but Dean never really thought a response would have happened. He only called her because he knew there wouldn’t be any answer.

Still, he picks up, pressing his thumb against the green button and sliding it to the right side of the screen. After that, the screen darkens and Dean puts it against his ear, searching for any sound.

“Yeah?” Dean asks calmly, though his heart beats a little faster. There’s no need for him to say his name as a greeting. Claire wouldn’t have called on accident.

“It’s Claire,” the girl still says, despite Dean knowing it’s her already. “I’ve… thought it over. Maybe it’s only fair to hear your side of it. I mean, Castiel seems to trust you… a lot.”

Dean shoots a short look towards the Angel still lying next to him, finding him watching curiously. Then Dean pulls the cellphone from his ear and presses the speaker button. That way Cas can listen along.

“Yeah, okay, where’d you wanna meet?” Dean asks carefully. He doesn’t completely trust her. When he saw her running off this morning, it wasn’t like Cas’s opinion seemed to matter to her. Dean can’t really see what made her change her mind all of the sudden.

And when he gets the address to a camping site just at the edge of Lebanon, Dean’s almost glad that he doesn’t have to drive too long for this awkward conversation. He agrees to meet her there in the morning around ten, and after that they hang up.

Dean puts his cellphone back on the night counter next to him, slowly turning back towards his husband still watching him.

“She’s planning something,” Dean tells him calmly. “I don’t think this conversation is going to be a pleasant one.”

“Did you ever expect it would be?” Cas asks in return. He reaches out his hand towards Dean, and the hunter takes it. He slowly passes his fingers over the back of Cas’s hand, caressing the skin softly.

“Never thought we would have to deal with a teenage girl _before_ having to deal with a baby. I almost can’t decide what’s worse.”

Cas laughs again, but slowly his eyes droop close. It has been a long and exhausting day for both of them, so nobody should really be surprised if they decide to hit the hay a little earlier than normal.

“You want to come with?” Dean asks while the Angel starts changing into his sleeping clothes. Dean does the same thing, dropping his clothes on the ground like he usually does, much to Cas’s annoyance.

“No, I have to bring back Metatron. Besides,I think you need to have this conversation without me. She already hates me, no need to take that to a further level,” Cas tells him. When he’s completely finished putting down his clothes neatly in the chair, he goes to hide underneath the covers to keep warm again. “And it’s not like she’ll actually want to kill you. That’s not something she would do.”

“She _did_ point a gun towards both of us, babe,” Dean still clears up, just in case Cas forgot about it. The Angel just shrugs.

“She wasn’t actually going to shoot,” Cas tries. Dean raises his eyebrows at him, causing the Angel to shrug. “Okay, so I don’t really know that either, but it’s not like my daughter’s a murderer!”

Dean looks up at Cas with wide eyes.

“You daughter?” he asks in confusion. Cas tenses up a little bit.

“I mean Jimmy’s daughter. Not _my_ daughter, of course!” he corrects himself before he turns around, back facing Dean in an attempt to hide away from Dean’s knowing stare. Then there’s a small smirk coming up on his face right before he bursts out laughing.

“You’re adorable,” Dean tells him fondly after regaining his breath for a little bit. Cas ignores him, instead, so Dean just sits up on his knees and shuffles forward, wrapping his arms around the Angel and holding him in another tight embrace.

His lips are glued to Cas’s neck, not really kissing the skin. It’s just to give him some sort of comfort. Cas hates it when he’s being laughed at; even before he became human he’s been sensitive about that.

“You will be a wonderful dad, Cas,” Dean then tells him in assurance. “Gabriel told us that we would have our chance of parenting soon, and I think she meant Claire with that.”

“I’m just having trouble recognizing what are Jimmy’s memories and what are mine,” Castiel explains. “Whenever I’m with you and the others, there’s no trouble. But as soon as Claire is involved, I don’t know, it’s like Jimmy takes over despite no longer being here.”

“That’s father instinct,” Dean tells him. Then he lifts his lips from the Angel’s neck and raises it to his cheek instead. His arms wrap tighter around his chest, and he feels Cas taking a deep breath. “Now let’s get to sleep. We both have things to do tomorrow.”

“You’re right. Good night, Dean.”

“Good night, babe.”

 

* * *

 

 

_The next morning_

 

Dean and Castiel part ways in the morning; Cas to return Metatron back to Lebanon Park, and Dean to get to that camping site to meet with Claire. Sam offers to come along the moment he wakes up, telling Dean that he could offer support.

“Sam, I’ve lived with a teenager in the house for more than a year. I know how to handle them,” Dean says to that. Nobody else comments on it, though it’s obvious that they’re a little bit curious of what Dean means. That story is for another time, though. Instead, he asks Sam to go with Cas, to see if nothing is going to happen. It’s better they go together instead of letting Cas go there by himself.

Right before Dean makes his leave towards the garage, he gets stopped one more time; this time by Lauren, who just greets him by giving him a strong and long hug. Dean once again gets reminded at how much taller she is compared to him, and he knows he shouldn’t feel bitter about that. Once he’s back to his handsome self, the roles will be reversed.

“I’m glad you and Cas made up,” Lauren tells him during the hug. Dean just chuckles.

“I guess you had something to do with that?” he asks. Lauren pulls back, but the smirk on her face is answer enough.

“Go get that girl,” Lauren then says, punching him lightly on the arm before turning back around to get to the kitchen. Dean for a moment watches her walk away, wondering when exactly she started to feel like home around here. Thanks to all the commotion around the kid, they actually forgot that they should focus on her getting back home safely.

Somehow, though, it seems like Lauren doesn’t really care about home anymore. Because it seems to Dean that she seems to be feeling quite at home already in here.

The moment he gets into the car, he turns the music up on full volume. Some things never really change, and his need to be able to just let go with loud tunes filling his ears is one of those things. He gets the car out of the garage with no trouble, passing through the tunnel and pressing a button to open the gates.

The sun is already up, but it’s hidden behind clouds. He still turns on the heating the moment the car gets into the open air. The few layers of clothing he’s already wearing aren’t enough to keep him warm like that.

It’s not too far to drive; about fifteen minutes at most. He finds a few signs pointing him towards the camping. It’s inside a forest with trees that somehow still have green leaves on them. There are a few people walking around in warm clothing. Dean can see a young girl with pink hair blowing on her hands to heat them up a little bit. Yes, the season is in town. It’s the seventeenth of December, a Wednesday, Dean remembers. Which is probably why the Christmas decorations have come up again in the stores. He’s been so focused about being knocked up that he didn’t even remember the exact date.

When Dean finds himself at the lake they agreed to meet up at, Dean notices an old trailer parked there. For a moment he wonders if people still live there, but when he can see freshly burned wood thrown together, he’s sure of it.

The question as to if he should knock on the door or not goes through his mind, but he remembers Claire specifically telling him to meet up at the bench across the lake. So Dean takes a short look backwards to check if that woman that passed by isn’t Claire, and then moves towards the bench. It looks cold, and he dreads having to sit on it, but he still does. Better have a cold ass than having to stand all the time until she comes.

The water is calm. There’s no wind blowing, either. He can hear the birds that haven’t migrated to a warmer country high up the trees. There’s no sound of traffic from the city, otherwise.

After what feels like minutes, Dean lifts up his wrist to check the time, seeing that it’s only two past eleven. Being two minutes late isn’t that bad. He lifts up his hands towards his face to blow hot air on them, and right then the sun seems to escape from the clouds, throwing its beams of lights Dean’s way and warming him up instantly. He can’t help the slight smile appearing on his face.

There’s a cracking noise behind him; probably an animal passing by or another person going their way. Still, Dean’s stomach twists uneasily, like a warning. It reaches for him, itching him from the inside to get Dean’s attention.

 _We’re in danger, turn around!_ It shouts in his head, and right before Dean can turn his head, the door from the trailer bursts open, and the worried sound of Claire’s voice comes through.

“NO!” she shouts. Dean turns his head towards her, seeing her panicked face. She looks like she has tears in her eyes. She’s still wearing the same clothes as yesterday, but her hair seems messier.

 _TURN AROUNd!_ The voice suddenly shouts inside his mind, and Dean does as it asks, barely dodging a baseball bat swung to his head. He throws himself off the bench and barely notices as he pushes the woman holding the weapon aside. From behind him, another person sneaks up to him.

The itch inside of him wants to take over, wants to deal with this quickly before anybody can get hurt. But Dean knows what happens when he’ll do that. So instead of going after the other person, he grabs the woman with the bat, and holds her to him when he faces the other man. He keeps the bat on her throat in a warning, but somehow it doesn’t seem to stop the man. Right then, Dean can see he’s holding an axe.

And that’s when he loses control over his own limbs. He can see everything that’s happening, but when his arms push the woman back on the ground so he can charge towards the man, he can’t do anything to stop it. Apparently the Grace feels so threatened by the axe that it took the wheel before Dean could even consent to it.

He still holds the bat, and uses it to block every swing the man throws his way. They’re not professionals, Dean can see that. It takes just a few short swings before the man trips, falling down on the ground and dropping the axe to the ground. Then he can see his hands reach out towards the two.

 _‘No no no! Don’t do this!_ ‘ he begs inside his mind.

‘ _But they were going to kill us?’_ the Grace asks.

_‘We don’t kill people. We help people, even idiots like these!’_

And there’s more hesitation. The Grace doesn’t seem to want to stop, though, still reaching forward, almost touching their foreheads.

“NO!” Claire shouts again, and that’s the moment Dean lifts up his own head again. The Grace suddenly pulled away, hiding back inside his mind right at the moment that the girl opened her mouth to stop him. Dean pulls his hand back right then and takes a long step away from the young people now shivering on the ground. Claire is really crying, now. Her hands are trembling – either from the fear or from the cold – and her breath is loud. Dean can see small clouds forming at her mouth.

 

 

“Get out of here, you punks!” Dean shouts at the two in front of him, and quickly enough they scramble up and run away, back into the forest, leaving him and Claire alone in here with just both their fears. They stare at each other for a long moment, long enough to prove to Dean that she had actually been planning on killing him. He can recognize that face she has; she looks disgusted of herself, like she couldn’t believe she almost just did that.

The tears swell up again in her eyes, and then she turns around, back into the trailer.

“Claire!” Dean shouts at her, trying to convince her to come back. The girl just shakes her head, so instead, Dean decides to let her be. He almost killed two people because of her, it’s better he just goes back to the bunker and tries to talk to Cas about this.

Because somehow, the Grace flinched away the moment Claire told him to stop, and now that Dean tries to scratch back inside his mind to get it to tell him why, the Grace keeps quiet. It doesn’t want to speak up, to explain, and it frustrates Dean more than anything.

Dean stays in the car for a moment to catch his breath. Inside the trailer there doesn’t seem to be any movement, but he’s sure that Claire is packing her stuff. He’d do the same after pulling a stunt like that. He could wait and see if she’ll actually get into the car with him (which he highly doubts), or he can just drive back and let Cas handle this.

Dean turns the key into the ignition, and it’s then that he notices the tear that has fallen on his hand. He reaches for his face, finding that he’s actually crying without realizing it. He sniffs his nose once, takes another deep breath, and wills the tears to stop dropping down.

His decision as to what he needs to do gets answered for him when Claire runs out of the trailer and back into the woods with her backpack, apparently having ditched the suitcase somewhere. Dean can understand that; it’s only heavy weight.

Dean grabs his phone, quickly opening a new message to send to Cas.

 **_Outgoing message – Cas  
_ ** _Claire ran into the woods. You should better take this one._

Then he waits a few seconds, watching Claire’s retreating form hiding in the trees. He sniffs his nose one more time, and then looks down when his phone buzzes.

 **_Incoming message – Cas  
_ ** _I’m on my way, stay where you are._

But Dean shakes his head. He doesn’t want to stay here; it’s cold, his hands are shivering from both the temperature and the fear, and he’s a literal ticking time bomb. If those two kids decide to come back, he doesn’t know what he’ll be capable of doing without having Claire to hold him back.

 **_Outgoing message – Cas  
_ ** _Need to get out of here. Meet me halfway, I’ll take Sam home._

And then Dean starts up the car again, turning around with no effort and leaving the trailer behind him. His heart is still beating faster, and he’s sure that that can’t be good for the baby. Does that still comply to Nephilim? Aren’t they supposed to be stronger?

Dean stops driving for a moment to see what Cas answered.

 **_Incoming message – Cas  
_ ** _Meet me at the entrance of the camping. Tell me everything._

And Dean will. The moment he arrives there, he sees Cas’s beige car drive up as well with the Angel behind the wheel. There’s no Metatron in the backseat, meaning that he’s already back in Heaven and they were just on their way back to the bunker. When Dean sees them arriving, he gets out of the car, glad that this strange crying fit of his has finally passed. Sam and Cas get out as well, slowly making their way to him. Apparently, Dean must still be looking shaken up because before he knows it he’s stuck in his brother’s strong embrace.

“What happened?” the younger hunter asks without letting go. The position allows Dean to see the Angel staring at him in worry.

“Two kids attacked me. I could have handled them with no worry, but apparently my anti-virus system wanted to get rid of them instead.”

Then Sam pulls back, looking at Dean up and down, probably to check for any blood. There isn’t any luckily.

“Did you kill them?” Sam asks, letting go of Dean then, meaning that it’s now the Angel’s turn to hug him again. And so the Angel does, wrapping his arms around Dean, only holding him in a much stronger embrace than his brother’s.

“I didn’t,” Dean says, trying to pull back from Cas. “The Grace, it… the moment it heard Claire shouting at me to stop, it pulled away, as if a child would have been chastised by his father for trying to sneak some cookies up to his room.”

“That’s quite a specific description,” Castiel tells him frowning. Sam just smirks for a moment, but not for long.

“She went that way,” Dean then says, pointing towards where Claire is probably running off to. “She’s by foot, carrying only a bag. And it’s cold, so she couldn’t have gotten far.”

Castiel nods, finally letting go of Dean completely to get back to his car. “I’ll talk to her. You two get back to the bunker. We’ll look into this Grace-thing the moment I get back.”

The two brothers nod, and then Cas is gone, driving back into the woods and leaving the two hunters alone.

 

* * *

 

 

“How the Hell did you find me so fast?”

Castiel can see dried tears on her reddened cheeks. Her breathing is fast, and her nose is pink from the cold.

“You couldn’t have gone far in this cold,” Castiel explains to her. “Dean told me you went into the woods. I just… used a bit of my Grace to really find you. I can hear you through prayers.”

Claire turns around and keeps on walking. Castiel puts the car in first, and slowly moves forward to follow her. There’s a cold chill entering the car with his windows opened like that, but otherwise he wouldn’t be able to talk to Claire.

In fact, he just hopes she’ll get in quickly enough so he can drive away from here.

“Prayer? Oh believe me, I gave up praying a long time ago,” Claire says bitterly.

“It doesn’t have to be a formal prayer. I could pick up on a longing, for example,” Castiel corrects himself. Claire turns her head towards him but doesn’t slow down her pace. “Perhaps you wanted to tell me something?”

“No,” Claire says quickly, readjusting her bag hanging over her shoulder. Then she looks down, slowing down her steps before stopping completely. That’s Castiel’s queue to stop the car as well and to get out. “I don’t know, maybe,” Claire then continues. She balls her hands into fists, and Castiel can see they’re getting red from the cold.

Castiel sees her fumbling with her fingers when he gets out. She’s trying to peel off the polish from her nails, looking quite nervous to him.

“I guess I just wanted to tell you that… eh, I thought about what you said.” Castiel slams the door shut and sees her looking up at him. “I saw him, protecting himself. His eyes were glowing, like he wasn’t in control of his actions.”

“Claire I’m sorry you had to see that,” Castiel tells her with regret thick on his voice. Claire just shakes her head, eyes tearing up again.

“Whatever had him, he stopped when I asked him to. He listened to me, and he looked so horrified of what had happened. But so did I, Castiel. Because I was the one who ordered that hit on him in the first place.”

Once again, Claire was crying, silently sobbing and rubbing away a few tears with the sleeves of her jacket. There’s no way that these clothes are warm enough for her.

“Just, come home with us, Claire, we can talk everything out. Dean isn’t angry,” Castiel begins, wishing with all his heart that she’ll say yes, that she’ll come along. But once again Claire shakes her head.

“I still got to go it alone,” Claire responds. “But I could… maybe call sometime?”

Castiel can’t help the relieved breath escaping from his lips. The way she looks up at him is no longer with disgust, but rather with a new kind of hope. It’s such a step forward that he almost regrets having to drive away again soon.

Still, he feels like he still needs to clear up something with her. Like he’s obliged to do this, as a member of her family… sort of.

“Dean is pregnant,” he says without thinking about it further. Then he looks down at her, finding her eyes opened wide and her mouth loose in surprise. “That’s the reason he… freaks out whenever he’s in danger; that’s my Grace, inside of him, protecting both him and the child.”

“I didn’t know Angels could have kids?” Claire asks after a few moments of silence. She doesn’t look bitter at all, but it’s not like she’s completely happy about it, either.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about us,” Castiel confesses. “And, if you want to know, the reason why it stopped attacking those two people? It’s because you still have a part of my Grace inside of you. I can sense it even now, and I’m sure the Grace in Dean sensed it, too.”

“So once again you saved the day?” Claire asks, jokingly. Then she wraps her arms around herself against the cold.

“I could do it once more by driving you somewhere you can find shelter?” Castiel then asks. He doesn’t want her wandering around like this in this weather. The young girl just looks at him for a moment, actually contemplating whether she’ll go along before actually nodding and walking around the car to get in. Castiel quickly rolls up the window so that no more cold air can sneak its way inside.

The whole drive is quiet, but it’s comfortable. Claire looks out of the window with a slight smile on her face. Castiel doesn’t even bother to ask what the occasion is for that smile. All he does is drive back into town, stopping at a bus station he finds quite coincidentally.

“You still got the money I gave you?” he asks her. Claire nods, fishing out her wallet to show the cash. Then she puts it back into her bag, getting out of the car. Castiel joins her, but doesn’t try to help her in any way. He knows she wouldn’t like that.

“Thanks for the ride,” Claire says with a shaky voice. For her sake, Castiel pretends not to notice. He just nods at her in acknowledgement, and then Claire turns around. Castiel opens the door to the car again, ready to get back in, when suddenly Claire’s voice starts again.

“Hey, I just have to say, that leather jacket looks good on you,” Claire tells him. Castiel looks down at the black jacket Dean bought for him a while back. He never really thought about it, but it has indeed been a while since he got into the trench coat.

Still, he can’t help the smile creeping up on his face when he realizes she actually complimented him. Claire, too, smiles widely, rubbing away another tear before walking away towards the building to buy some tickets. Castiel watches her go for a moment, and then eventually gets back into the car.

Despite agreeing to let her go, he can’t help the biting feeling inside of him as he drives away, leaving Claire alone again on the road.

 

* * *

 

 

_Heaven’s dungeons_

It isn’t the first time Metatron passes through these hallways with a guard stuck on each arm. He’s done it before right after Naomi caught him and took him prisoner, destined to rot in these cells for eternity.  At least, that’s what they think, but Metatron is sure that he’ll get out.

Of course he will; he’s the Scribe of God. There’s no way his father would just leave him here. He made God laugh, once! For sure, he has always expected an occasion to get out of here. With the help of those stupid Winchesters, his chance has finally arrived.

He can’t help the grin on his face as he passes empty cell after empty cell. Ever since that big lawsuit that freed Abner and Gadreel, more and more prisoners have received the chance to prove their innocence. That is, everyone except for Metatron. Nobody wants to believe him.

But they’ll listen to him once he tells them everything he’s learned downstairs. The Angels will drop their guards and hurry back down on Earth to stop it from ever happening in the first place. Once they’re finished, they’ll thank him for the big service they’ve provided for him. They’ll tell him what a hero he is. They’ll worship him like he’s supposed to be.

“I have learned so much down there, you wouldn’t believe it,” Metatron says, voice smug and thick with enthusiasm. The two guards turn to look at him for a moment, but they don’t speak. They haven’t opened their mouths ever since they came to pick him up back on Earth, and that exchange hasn’t been elaborated to begin with.

“I’m sure you’re wondering what exactly it is that I’ve learned, hmm?” Metatron continues anyway. They might not want to listen to him, but once they hear what he has to say, they will beg for more information.

They turn around the corner, arriving in another darkened hallway. Metatron can’t remember the dungeons ever being so long to reach, but that’s probably just his imagination. Heaven can play tricks with your mind to test you, so this is probably one of those things.

“Let me tell you what it is,” he finally continues, leaving a long pause for extra tension. He likes those things, both in movies and in television. It’s what makes him like being a writer; messing with the reader’s minds by throwing them cliffhangers and seemingly irreversible plot twists that leave a character depressed for longer than two chapters.

Okay, long enough pause; can’t linger for too long or they’ll lose interest.

“Dean Winchester is pregnant with a Nephilim child.”

Let the adoration come, now. But not all at the same time.

Metatron is still smirking, eyes closed and head lifted to the ceiling while he awaits compliments, or even at least panicked reactions. That’s even better than nothing!

But the guards don’t even flinch, and when Metatron opens his eyes again, he finds that he’s once again standing in front of his cell, having taken a different way than he’s used too.

“Why did we take a longer way?” he asks, suddenly uneasy about it all. He’s almost a hundred percent sure that these Angels aren’t guards, but that they’re more intent on killing him off. Surely, Azrael couldn’t have agreed on that, right?

“We couldn’t run in on other Angels of course, smartypants!” one of the guards finally says, revealing a female voice, originating from a young vessel. When the Angel takes off the cape, Metatron can see the round face of a teenager, forehead hidden behind thick locks of dark hair, and long curls put up in a messy bun. She has dark brown eyes, and once Metatron looks into her eyes, he can see who he’s talking to.

“Gabriel?” he asks with a shaky voice. Now he’s absolutely sure that they’re going to kill him. Oh, better let it be fast than. Gabriel is an Archangel, so the moment he’ll call for help, she’ll smite him and disappear even before the _real_ guards arrive.

The second ‘guard’ drops the cape as well, revealing another face he’s not familiar with, but with Anna’s Grace hidden behind it.

“Anna?” he then asks as well. The Angel nods with a small smirk on her lips before she pushes him back into the cell with such a force that Metatron trips over his own feet. Then the doors of the dungeons open again, and another Angel walks in quickly.

“Okay, they’re distracted for now. Do it before they’ll come back and he’ll spill everything,” Gadreel says as he storms inside. Metatron’s eyes open wide in surprise again when he sees his former neighbor coming closer.

What the Hell is going on?

“You’re probably wondering what’s going on,” Gabriel says, smirking. Metatron feels the urge to roll his eyes at her. He never really liked Gabriel before, and nothing will probably ever change in that. “We had kind of predicted that Cassie would ask for your help, but we know that you’re not really the kind that can keep his trap shut, which is why _we’re_ here. Now, before I completely erase your mind, let me explain something to you. Yes, Dean Winchester is pregnant. Yes, Heaven still thinks Nephilim are abominations. No, father did not bring us back to get rid of it, but rather to make sure it’ll live until its twentieth birthday.”

And then Gabriel lifts up her hand, and Metatron takes a big step back, raising his hands as well.

“Now now now, there’s no need for that!” he quickly begs. “I can keep my mouth shut, I promise!”

But Gabriel shakes her head. Gadreel throws a quick look at the door of the dungeons, obviously uneasy at this point. Anna just looks smug.

“No, Metatron,” the redhead says. “Father specifically said that nobody in Heaven should be aware of it.”

“And that includes you,” Gabriel finishes. Once Metatron has taken so many steps back that he hits the wall, Gabriel’s fingers finally find his forehead. “Say byebye.”

And after that…

No, nothing.

The cell is empty except for him, just like it has always been. There won’t be any change in that soon. Metatron should better get back to writing instead of just sitting there all eternity, staring right into nothingness. No good thing has ever come out of that.

 

* * *

 

 

_Men of Letters HQ, the following week_

A lot of things change, lately. To begin with; there’s no more comment on Sam’s side when it comes to the kid, which is at least one big improvement.

Secondly, Crowley shows himself less and less. Whether he’s staying in his room or just going out all the time, nobody knows, but it also seems like no-one cares really. They’ve got more urgent matters to deal with right now.

And then, thirdly, it seems like Linda Tran has taken it upon herself to be Dean’s diet coach for the upcoming months. She assigned herself this task when Dean tried to eat the burger that he brought home after a short trip to town with Cas. She literally slapped his hand until the thing fell back onto his plate, and then she passed it on to Cas, who, as she said, could use some food in his system.

“Hey, I’m hungry, too!” Dean had answered angrily while he watched Castiel taking a bite out of his burger with a smug face. Linda had just slapped the back of his head again and started bitching out.

“ _You_ are pregnant! You can’t just eat whatever you want to eat like before! There’s two people you need to worry about right now!” she had responded, which is why, each morning, Dean finds himself waiting at the breakfast table until Linda has finished preparing whatever next was on the menu. Apparently she has taken the liberty to print out a whole diet plan from the internet, and she bases the weekly meals on that. There’s a plan for each trimester, and so far Dean’s only in the first one, meaning that he might have to eat rabbit food for a _long_ time.

This particular Monday morning, Dean gets a plate handed to him, with on it a bowl of muesli with what seems like chopped apple, and to make it worse there’s a little pot of plain yoghurt; the worst kind. Dean already makes a face as he looks at it, and Linda just slaps his head again.

“Don’t complain!” she bites at him. “You forgot protection, you live with the consequences.”

And with that she hands him a glass filled with orange juice, too. It’s not much of a meal; not even half of what he’s used to at breakfast.

Dean knows there’s no fighting Linda Tran when she’s so determined, so he turns around to rejoin Sam and Castiel in the main room, where he finds the two already enjoying a plate full of pancakes.

“Okay, this isn’t fair,” Dean mutters out, causing the other two to look up at him. Sam casts one look at Dean’s platter, and bursts out laughing. Castiel, instead, just throws him an apologetic look.

“Dean, you’re still at the stage where you throw up everything heavy you eat. This diet is supposed to help you with that,” Castiel explains to him calmly. Dean just rolls his eyes, remembering Linda’s speech about it very well.

“She’s starving me, Cas!” Dean counters while he sits down. He pokes his spoon in the bowl of muesli, but postpones actually eating it. At least the orange juice looks good to him, but he wants to spare that a little bit. “At lunch I’ll get smoked chicken and avocado salad, and at dinner there’s chicken again with couscous!”

“It’s only for the best, my love,” Castiel tells him kindly. Dean just rolls his eyes and then looks down at his stomach, bulging even more, though slightly, than last week.

“The things I do for you, little one,” he mutters, causing Sam to laugh once more. Dean can’t help but fish out one muesli flake and throw it at him, but instead of being mad, Sam just picks it up from the table and eats it.

“Hmm, I love muesli,” he says grinningly. Dean holds out his bowl towards his brother.

“Wanna trade?” he asks. Sam opens his eyes in faked surprise, and then shakes his head.

“Like I’m going to trade my delicious pancakes with muesli only so you can puke them back out in an hour,” his brother tells him viciously. Then he picks up his fork and puts another piece from his plate to his mouth, eyes not leaving Dean the whole time. The hunter feels his face heat up in annoyance. Sam is such a brat.

“When’s your appointment with the doctor?” Sam then asks after a few minutes of silent eating. The hunter looks up from his computer screen to check with his brother or Castiel, but seeing as Dean his mouth is full – filled with disgusting food, may Dean add – it’s Castiel that answers.

“This afternoon at four,” Castiel reveals.

“This is going to be so awkward,” Dean complains, having already forgotten that he’s supposed to be seeing the doc today. It’s a thing he’s always wanted to postpone up until Cas urged him on that he shouldn’t do that. It has mostly to do with the fact that his stomach has swollen up more than it normally should. Dean thinks that’s just a Nephilim-thing, but Castiel actually worries that there’s something wrong, so the hunter only agreed to go to calm his husband down a little bit.

 _That,_ and maybe a certain supposedly-dead Angel might have invaded his dream to threaten him if he wouldn’t go, and Dean rather stays away from Balthazar for as long as possible.

“I wonder,” Dean suddenly says, now that he’s thinking about the resurrected Angel, “Gabriel mentioned that there are more Angels that have been brought back to orchestrate this Prophecy-crap.”

“Yes?” Sam asks, knowing full well about that since it was him Gabriel told it to.

“So far we’ve only seen Balthazar, right? Who are the other Angels? And why haven’t they shown themselves?”

Sam and Castiel turn to look at each other for a moment, thinking that question over in silence. They seem to agree with him, though, which is at least positive.

Their thinking moment gets interrupted when a pinging sound comes out of Sam’s laptop, making the hunter look down on his screen again in surprise.

“What the hell?” he asks loudly.

“What’s wrong?” Dean wonders out loud.

“Charlie.”

“Is she back from Oz? She didn’t call?” Dean stands up so he can look on the screen as well, leaning over Sam’s shoulder. Castiel does the same thing, eyes on the screen where a video has obviously finished loading.

“Yeah, uh, she’s been busy,” Sam remarks. He clicks on the video to play it, and Dean’s eyes widen. It’s obviously recorded with a phone, and the lighting isn’t that great, but Dean can clearly see Charlie actually fighting some poor bastard, beating him up to the ground.

“What the hell are we looking at?” Dean then asks, wondering how Sam even found this video. Sam just shrugs for a moment.

“I was looking into the new, checking for anything weird. I found this story about a torture vic right after you arrived here. Apparently, some kid videotaped this at his next-door neighbor’s house.”

Sam pauses the video then, sparing Dean and Castiel any further images of Charlie beating the crap out of a guy. Then the hunter leans back in his chair, taking a deep breath and passing his hand through his face.

“What are you saying? Charlie tortured someone?” Castiel asks. He goes to sit back down on his chair.

“ _Our_ Charlie? Yea high,” Dean holds out his hand to the height of his eyes. “Wouldn’t hurt a Hobbit, practically sparkles?” As quickly as he can, Dean goes to the pockets of his pants to take out his cellphone, searching through his contacts to find Charlie’s name.

He hears the phone go over, but still after hearing the beeping sound ten more times, he knows she isn’t going to answer. “Come on, Charlie, pick up,” Dean mutters out. Eventually, he hangs up, bitterly.

“The guy she went all Jack Bauer on, uh, Peter Harper,” Sam begins, already going through the files. “District attorney in Topeka. According to this article he wasn’t the only person in town that was hit. Uh, a court stenographer was assaulted the night before.”

“Well, you know, Charlie wouldn’t go off on someone without a reason,” Dean tries to reason, and in the corner of his eye he sees Castiel nod in agreement.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t think so either, but look at the video,” Sam counters miserably. He seems really shaken up about it.

“Oh, I’m looking at it,” Dean assures him. “But you know what we do, taken out of context, it doesn’t look that much different. She could be hunting?” Dean tries. Sam just sighs, like he saw that suggestion coming. “Why don’t we go talk to this asshat and see what’s going on?”

“Heyheyhey, no, you’re not coming!” Sam counters quickly with a loud voice, causing Dean to open his eyes in surprise.

“What? Why?” Dean complains. Why the hell is Sam being a bitch about this right now?

“Dude, you’re doing a scan today? The appointment at four?” comes in return, and, oh yeah, Dean forgot again. Proof of how much he actually cares about that.

Or no, he _does_ care; he wants to know everything about his kid. What he doesn’t care about, though, is having a stranger poke at things that aren’t even supposed to be there.

“We can postpone it,” Dean tries, but the look that forms on Castiel’s face is enough to let Dean know that _that_ isn’t going to happen. Quickly, before a fit storm comes out, Dean scrambles back. “Okay, so we’re _not_ going to postpone it, I got it.”

“Dean we barely agreed that the baby could stay-“

“Not that is was your choice to make, may I add,” Dean interrupts. He only receives a glare from both men in front of him in return.

“The least you can do is take these appointments seriously, as well as the diet. Sacrifices have to be made to build a family.”

Dean scowls quite literally, knowing fully well that Sam is right. And it’s not like he doesn’t care. It’s just all fun and jokes, his only way of reminding himself of what he used to be before all this crap happened. Sam and Cas couldn’t understand that, so why should Dean even bother to explain it in the first place?

“Okay, fine, but you’re not going alone,” Dean throws back. He knows he’ll receive the bitchface from Sam, and he doesn’t care.

“I’m not alone, I’ll have Charlie,” Sam returns, slamming his hand on the table as if he just won with that argument. Dean just shakes his head.

“No, no, no, until you’ve actually proven that’s Charlie, you don’t have her. It might as well be a shapeshifter, or she might be possessed? Who knows! No, you’re bringing someone along!”

And the two brothers look at each other. They know there’s a whole list of hunter they could call for this, but obviously, only one person seems to pass their mind right that instant. Dean sighs, Sam sighs, and Cas just looks confused from the silent conversation between the brothers.

“Lauren,” they say together, and as if on cue, Lauren’s voice blooms in the room.

“What’s that about me, champs?” she asks. When everybody turns around, they find her leaning against the door opening with a fork at her mouth. She seems to be chewing something – Dean suspects pancakes, because Linda is evil.

“We need you for a hunt,” Sam says, obviously already hating himself for it. Dean takes a short look at the two for a moment, somehow wondering why still nothing has happened between the two. Maybe he’s wrong about it and they _wouldn’t_ go well together. Huh, who would have thought?

“Oh! Joy! Let me pack my stuff, you can update me on the way.”

And leave right away they do. There’s barely any time between them standing up from the table and actually getting in the car Sam claimed from the garage. Even Lauren, who had just been walking around in her pajamas, is already dressed and packed by the time Dean finally finishes his disgusting yoghurt.

“We’ll tell her you said hi,” Sam says right before disappearing again. Quickly, Dean stands up as well to run after them.

“Wait!” he shouts their way. Both Sam and Lauren pause, but they seem impatient to leave. “You probably need to know; Charlie’s parents died in a car crash on their way to pick her up from a party when she was twelve. Her father died on the spot, her mother was declared brain dead afterwards. They were the Middletons. You should ask this guy about it. There’s probably a connection.”

Sam nods at his brother, walking forward the moment he finishes speaking.

“You’re welcome,” Dean mutters to the air after both Sam and Lauren have disappeared through the door to the garage. Calmly, he turns back around to rejoin his husband at the table.

Cas is busy cleaning up everything. He throws Dean a short smile upon his arrival, and once he’s near enough, he drops a quick kiss on his lips, but then he’s back to the kitchen, where, apparently, Linda is doing a whole explanation of whatever is coming through her mind right now.

Once Dean spots a red-faced Kevin sitting there, looking completely ashamed of himself, he tries to listen to what Linda is actually saying.

“… and then don’t even get me started on the whole process _before_ the actual birth! They had to cut me open, and I don’t mean a C-section by that! Not that it hurt, really, I was filled with pain killers, but let me tell you; they stitched me back together in the end, it was like they used actual wire! Man it hurt so much to even walk…”

Dean shut her back out. Talks like that aren’t really something he’s looking forward to be hearing. All he can do at the moment is get out of the kitchen again, sit back down at his seat in the main room, and let out a long sigh.

“Sammy’s gonna be okay, Sammy’s gonna be okay,” he keeps on repeating to himself. He’s leaning forward a little bit and has his hands clasped together while he tries to slow his heart down. He doesn’t know why it’s beating that much faster than usual. “He’s got Lauren with him, doesn’t he? Of course, we all know the only reason he wanted her along is because he wants to get into her pants, but who actually cares about that. They’ve probably been together ever since she got here…”

Dean knows he’s babbling. He’s nervous, he feels hungry but nauseated at the same time, and right now he’d rather just go back to bed and have a staring session with Cas. There’s not even need for sex, all he wants is his Angel’s presence.

 “Calm down, my love,” Castiel finall tells him. Dean startles when two strong hands suddenly find their way on his shoulder, but he relaxes instantly. A lazy smile appears on his face as he’s being massaged through his slight panic attack.

“I know, I know, Sam is a grown up, he can take care of himself,” Dean mutters. He can’t help it; protecting Sam is just instinct. It’s what he’s been doing ever since he was four, and it’s not really something he can just get rid of.

While Castiel’s hands do their work, Dean slowly feels the tension disappearing from his body, instead embracing the bliss that is the massage given to him by Cas.

Huh…

A Cassage?

Dean can’t help but smirk at the thought. His minds always comes up with the strangest things, but they’re always enough to bring him to even a small laughter.

“That’s good, Cas,” Dean compliments him. He drops his head back, allowing the Angel to kiss him softly on the lips. Then, with a small twitch, Dean pulls away from Cas’s heavenly hands to stand up. “I need to pee… again.”

Cas just nods and takes a step beck. When Dean passes him by, he steals one more kiss before he goes. Cas seems just as unwilling to let him go, though, and the moment Dean tries to walk away, he gets pulled back with the Angel’s lips colliding once more against his.

“Hmm, Cas,” Dean mutters out through the kiss. Cas doesn’t pull back. “Babe, I really need to go.”

Finally, Cas lets go of him, allowing Dean to finally make his way to the bathroom. He can’t help but sigh as soon as he’s out of the room.

To be honest, he’s terrified of what he has to expect at his appointment today. He’s done his research when he was alone, he knows what exactly is going to happen. His only worry is how _he’s_ going to react to the procedures.

It won’t do them any good if he has another panic attack during the scan. He can barely handle Cas touching his… down there. What will the result be of a doctor? Will he scream and shout? Or will he just kick him until he’s knocked out? Or will he be able to remain calm.

So yeah, he knows what he can expect from the procedure, but not what he can expect of his own.

After cleaning his hands, Dean takes a long look at his reflection in the mirror. He looks healthy enough, though the skin around his eyes seems to have gotten a little darker somehow. That’s probably from the little sleep he’s gotten after having periods of long nights. He just can’t seem to keep his eyes closed at night, on one hand scared that the next morning Cas might be gone, and on the other there’s the fear that a certain Archangel might come and visit him again in his dream to throw another bomb on him.

He’s had enough, really. So many things have happened to him, and he hates that he’s had no say in any of them. He feels like God’s little puppet again, used and humiliated so the guy will get the story he seems to want. The hypocrite. Instead of forcefully knocking up (wo)men, he should better get a hobby… one that doesn’t involve writing and has more to do with being a better father to his children.

He rejoins Cas in silence after having another long look at his stomach. He checks it out a few times everyday to remind himself that this is real, that this is actually happening. It’s completely out of his control.

The rest of their day is mostly spent on the couch. Dean is leaning against Cas, both of them lying down and their eyes stuck on the TV showing reruns of Dr. Sexy. Or maybe they’re watching something else; Dean doesn’t know, since he’s already asleep before the commercial has stopped playing. He’s snuggled close against Cas, and when he opens his eyes again, it’s apparently already two in the afternoon. That’s dangerously close to the appointment and the realization makes Dean want to run away screaming. What he needs now is a long trip with the car, but he knows Cas nor Linda will allow it. Life on the road isn’t good for him right now, according to them.

Dean knows it’s just a way for Linda to control his ridiculous diet.

“The website said you should wear comfortable clothes that are easily removed,” Cas tells him suddenly. The calmness that had taken over Dean for a few hours now quickly disappears again. Screw this, he’s not going to some doctor to have the guy probe inside. The kid is Nephilim for crying out loud! Surely nothing will be wrong with it! He doesn’t need a scan like this!

Still, Dean nods. He can’t disappoint Cas. He can’t risk having Balthazar invade another dream of him to scare him off. It’s no good to any of them. So that’s why he allows Cas to lead him to their bedroom and select loose pants and an old t-shirt that’s too large for Dean now. In silence, Dean puts it on.

“Are you alright, Dean?” Cas asks after observing the hunter for a moment. Dean looks up at him, caught off guard by the question. He does realize he’s been especially quiet lately, but he never thought it would be that noticeable to the Angel.

“I’m fine, Cas,” Dean answers automatically. Like always, Cas doesn’t believe him.

“Everything will be okay. I will be with you every moment.”

Dean takes a long look at his husband. How could Cas not see that that answer doesn’t give him any comfort at all? He lowers his head again when he feels his eyes tear up a little bit, hoping that Cas didn’t catch that.

That’s also a thing that has been happening a lot around Dean; he cries over the smallest things. Whether it is a sad scene in a movie, or another small argument with Cas, tears are always expected to show up eventually. Dean hates it. It makes him feel week and pathetic. Alongside the nausea, the tears is something he hates the most about the symptoms for the first trimester.

When Cas wraps his arms around him to offer him comfort, Dean lets out a small laugh.

“It’s pretty pathetic, right?” Dean asks. “I’m a fearless hunter, I faced countless monsters without ever even hesitating, and look at me now.”

Cas just shakes his head. His hand travels to Dean’s hair and he starts massaging his head calmly.

“You feel discomfort, it’s completely understandable,” Cas tells him calmly. Dean doesn’t bother with a response, but instead he dries the tears away with his sleeves, and gets ready to leave the room with his hand holding the Angel’s.

“I’ll be fine,” Dean promises him. And he will try to be fine. He’ll do his best, because if it takes a doctor’s appointment to make sure his kid will be alright, it’s completely worth it.

And that’s how Dean finds himself not too much later in a clean, white room, seated in a chair with a blanket thrown over him to cover his naked lower body. Upon arrival, the doctor had asked him some questions; when was his last period, did he have any diseases in the past or in the family… that sort of crap. Then, after getting instructed to be seated (and making sure that his bladder was completely empty), he was told to undress. At least the doctor had the decency to look away during that time, not that it really matters since he’ll still be with his face between Dean’s legs.

Man that sounded weird.

“You can put your feet on the stirrups,” the doctor suddenly tells him. Dean throws a short look at Cas, who is standing next to him for support, and then complies; allowing his legs to bend and giving the doctor a better view.

“This is a transducer,” Dr. Ralph tells him, holding up a long, white device that looks like a modern electric toothbrush. Dean swallows, but then nods. He did the research, he knows what it is. “This probe will send out sound waves, which reflect off body structures.” Then the man points towards a computer screen next to them. “This computer here will receive these waves, and he’ll use those to create a picture.”

Dean once again nods, but Cas only frowns for a moment. He’s probably wondering how the computer will receive the waves in the first place.

“Just to warn you, I’ll move the probe around to get a complete view of the pelvic organs.” The doctor pulls the things back for a moment, and out of Dean’s eyesight he hears the man tearing something open. Once he turns back around, he notices there’s something wrapped around the device.

Oh… a condom. It’s been so long since he used one that he almost forgot all about those. He squeezes his husband’s hand once for a moment in slight panic, but otherwise manages to remain calm.

“It’s going to be fine, love,” Castiel assures him in a whisper right before pressing a soft kiss on his forehead. Dean nods one more time, taking a deep breath and trying to calm himself down.

“Okay, I’m ready,” he tells the doctor, though he doesn’t completely feel like it. Dr. Ralph eyes him carefully for a moment, clearly not believing him.

“I won’t do anything until you’re completely sure,” the man tells him. Once more Dean nods. He closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths, willing his heart to calm down. It takes a few tries for him to completely feel his heartrate slow down, but when he eventually manages, he relaxes his shoulder.

“Okay,” he finally says, this time more truthfully. The doctor nods as well, slowly lifting up the sheets covering up Dean’s whole lower body. Dean turns his eyes away, though he can’t see a thing that’s happening down there. He feels ridiculous and exposed. This isn’t something he’d ever expect to experience in his life. Or at least maybe from where Cas is standing, since accidents always can happen.

“You might feel discomfort,” the doctor tells him lowly, and then, before Dean can even say anything else, he feels the intrusion.

He wants to push it out right away. His hands almost squeeze off Cas’s fingers in an attempt to keep himself to the present time. His head turns into the Angel’s chest so he can feel him close to him. Then, after a few seconds, the worst seems to have passed.

“Alright, I have visual,” Dr. Ralph suddenly says. He has his eyes pointed at the screen next to them, and with squinted eyes he looks the images over. Dean pulls his head back as well, suddenly extremely curious as to what his kid looks like right now.

He should have known that he couldn’t make anything out on the scan. All he sees is a blue-ish image that constantly moves as the probe moves as well, and though he searches, he can’t really see anything recognizable.

“Where is it?” Dean wonders out loud. He can’t help it, he really wants to see his little kid. He wants to see how big it is, if it’s healthy.

“It’s right there,” Dr. Ralph says, pointing at what seems like a little bean. It’s a little bit lighter than the rest of the image, so once Dean notices it, he can’t unsee it anymore.

His heart skips a beat for a minute. His whole body feels warm. Right there is the kid he and Cas created together. The kid that is supposedly going to become the next God (not if Dean can’t help it). The kid that…

Wait…

“Is that another bean?” he asks, letting go of Cas’s hand to point at the screen. “I mean, light spot, thingy.” He feels his face reddening at his slight slip-up, but luckily, the doctor doesn’t seem to mind all that much.

Dean grits his teeth for a moment when the probe gets moved again. It’s not that it hurts, but it also isn’t the most pleasant feeling in the world.

“It seems like your right,” Dr. Ralph mutters out, pointing the probe at the second bean and waiting until the image clears. “There’s two heartbeats. It’s rare that twins are noticed at such an early stage, but as you can see, it can happen.”

Did Dean just hear that correctly? Did the doc say twins? Actual twins?

“Holy shit,” Dean breathes out. He drops his head back on the bed and presses a hand against his forehead. He can’t believe this. He’s barely prepared to have even one child, and now suddenly there are two.

Two beans. Two kids. Two babies.

“Gabriel is going to freak out,” Dean mutters to himself. What would the Archangel say? The Prophecy talked about _one_ child instead of two. Whatever God’s plan is, it’s clearly not going the way it’s supposed to.

“Can you determine the genders of the children?” Cas suddenly asks from next to him, causing Dean to pull away his arm. Dr. Ralph shakes his head as he pulls the transducer out at last, and then he shoves his chair back and stands up to clean the device while explaining to Cas why he can’t see the genders just yet. Dean wonders if he can pull his legs back or not, but eventually decides to remain seated like this.

Instead he turns his head back towards the now frozen screen, where he can now, with no doubt, see the two little beans, facing each other. They’re so tiny, so fragile, and they’re tucked safely inside his body where he can keep them close. Without any warning he lets go of Cas’s other hand and puts his hand on his stomach, like the two beans will feel it inside of him.

Maybe he should stop calling it beans. These are his sons or daughters in there. They’re more than just beans.

As Dean stares at his offspring, he makes a silent promise to make sure that these two never, ever, have to hold a gun in their hands. He’s going to make sure that his kids are _not_ going to become hunters. And he’s going to succeed at that.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_Meanwhile, Topeka Kansas_

“So this Charlie’s real name is Celeste?”

Sam looks up from the road, finding Lauren with her nose in the files they got from Peter Harper back when they questioned him.

At least, they began with questioning. Then Lauren became angry and Harper spilled out everything without hesitating. Sam still can’t really understand what just happened back there, but he knows it’s not really okay.

“Guess she’s looking for the person who destroyed her family,” Sam mutters without slowing the car down.

“Can you blame her?” Lauren asks. Sam turns his head slightly, but not for long. Lauren looks genuine, like she thinks torture is completely normal to justify the death of her parents. They should really have a talk with Lauren about how far a hunter can go before they get dangerous. Lauren reminds Sam of himself back when he didn’t have a soul, and it freaks him out.

“Us hunters, we’re supposed to help people, not hurt them,” Sam grits out. He’s tired, he’s been driving all day, and all he wants to do is get to the motel and sleep for a moment. The woman next to him seems to agree when she lets out a loud yawn, but the sound of her empty stomach is louder. “We should eat something and then go to the motel. It’s been a long day.”

Lauren nods, but doesn’t respond. It’s like Sam’s previous remark makes her think for a moment. She closes the file after taking a long look at the picture, and eventually sighs loudly.

“You think I’m dangerous, don’t you?” she asks after a few seconds of silence. The question is so spot-on that Sam can’t find anything to respond to that for a few long seconds. He casts her a short look, finding her staring out the window with her head leaning on her hand.

“I think you have anger inside of you, and you can’t control it,” Sam tells her. She doesn’t move while he speaks, but he knows she’s listening. “I think you could become a great hunter – if you would ever want to be one – but your priority should be the safety of the humans, including the ones we question during a case.”

“I’ve done a few cases now,” Lauren suddenly says. “Though I don’t dislike doing it, I don’t think it’s something I could see myself doing for the rest of my life. I think, the moment we catch those vampires, I’m out.”

Sam nods. He can understand that. And it’s not too late for Lauren, she’s barely been doing this, escaping will come easier to her than it did to him. Even back when he lived with Amelia, he felt restless. He knew people were dying because of monsters, and he didn’t do anything to stop them. Something like that can eat at a person’s conscious.

“Is there any update on Dean or Cas?” Sam asks. It’s been a few hours now since they went to the doctor, but so far there hasn’t been anything news on their front. Sam is genuinely curious of what they heard back there.

“Nothing so far,” Lauren says, checking both their phones for the tenth time in the last two hours. If something bad happened, they’ll hear about it. Sam’s sure of that.

Sam stops the car at the first diner he sees. He’s starving right now, and Lauren probably is, too. They leave Charlie’s file in the car and make their way inside as quickly as they can. It’s still winter, so staying outside isn’t really recommended.

There aren’t a lot of people inside. It’s Monday, quite late. People are probably already getting ready for bed to get back to work or school tomorrow. Lauren leads him to a seat a little further away from the other people, and then she waves at a waiter, who waves back in confirmation.

Their dinner isn’t elaborated; Sam orders a salad, Lauren goes for a steak. They mostly eat in silence, but occasionally throw in a little bit of conversation to fill the silence.

When suddenly both their phones make a sound indicating an incoming message, the two of them look up in surprise. It’s probably Dean or Cas, finally offering them an update.

Sam is quick in opening the message. He wants to know all about it. It’s weird how, in such a short time, he’s gone from wanting the baby gone to feeling like a proud uncle already. He tries not to think about it too much, but it sometimes still gets in his mind.

It’s just, ever since Lauren’s outburst towards them, a shift has been made in his mind, and he can’t really explain why exactly her words got to him like that. All he cares about, right now, is that Dean wants this. And if Dean wants it, the least they can do is support them.

 **_Incoming message – Dean  
_ ** _There’s two beans instead of one_

Sam frowns for a moment. What does that even mean?

When he looks up at Lauren, he finds her looking equally confused, so at least Dean’s just as much a mystery to her as to him. He wants to respond, to ask for clarification, but before he can do that, another message arrives. This time, there’s a picture attached.

 **_Incoming message – Dean  
_ ** _We pointed out the two beans_

And on the picture there’s the image from what must be Dean’s scan. His name is written on the corner of the picture so Sam’s sure it’s from him. He doesn’t have to search for long when trying to find the embryo. Dean already put a circle around it. Actually, he put two circles around two little… well, yeah, beans.

“I’ll be damned,” Sam mutters out. “He actually managed to get twins…”

“He what?” Lauren asks loudly. She grabs Sam’s phone out of his hands and starts looking at the image as well. Sam can see her eyes open widely the moment she sees it as well – not that anybody could look over it. It’s so clearly there, pointed out with two red circles.

Holy shit this can’t be real. Sam has to rest his head in his hands for a moment while he catches his breath. It doesn’t fully sink in right now. Not only is his brother pregnant – damn, that thought is still weird – but now there’s two of them? Did Gabriel mess up with the sudden fertility treatment? Did Dean’s body have a ‘screw you, God’-moment like it always has?

Lauren gives him his space, which he appreciates. The woman continues her meal in silence, and even makes a visit to the restroom after she’s finished, and the moment she gets back, her mouth remains shut.

Once she orders dessert, though, she seems to have gotten enough of the silence. She clasps her hands together and takes a deep breath, and Sam already prepares himself for a conversation about how he’s going to become an uncle.

But Lauren surprises him when instead she asks: “I was wondering what you think would have happened if, back then, you didn’t have to go on that case? Back when I asked you out?”

Sam eyes her for a moment, wondering if she’s genuine. They’ve never really spoken about their failed attempt at dating, mostly because it has been such an opportunity wasted by a stupid hunt and Sam sleeping with Tracy afterwards.

But Sam does think about it. What would he have done if he wouldn’t have been called up for that case?

“I think I would have gotten to that restaurant, what was it called?” he starts.

“ _L’Europe_ ,” Lauren answers with a smile. Sam wonders if he’s imagining the reddened color of her cheeks.

“Right, _L’Europe_. I would have gotten there, probably a few minutes late because I would have been too nervous to actually get in.”

Lauren giggles lightly and lowers her gaze while lifting up her wine glass.

“And then I would have walked to your table, and I would have told you how beautiful you look.”

“You don’t even know what I was wearing,” Lauren counters.

“What you wear doesn’t change that fact,” Sam tells her before he can think better of it. Now his face warms up, and a nervous laugh gets out. “Right, okay. We would have had dinner, I would have asked about your life, I would have told you a few aspects of mine without revealing too much.”

“I would have declared you crazy had you told me the truth,” Lauren confesses. Sam can understand that. He never told Jessica the truth, or Amelia. But then again, maybe it’s good that Lauren knows. His previous method doesn’t seem to be working, anyway.

“After we ate dinner, I would have offered to walk you home. We would have talked all the time on our way back, and before you got back into your house, I would have asked if I could kiss you.”

There’s no response this time, except for Lauren’s mouth that has dropped open. She takes a deep breath, and then another one, and for a moment Sam wonders if he’s been a little bit too honest right there. Is she disgusted about the idea of kissing him? Was he thinking too much of it?

Finally, Lauren lowers her eyes again, and her mouth clothes. She leans back in her chair for a moment as the information seems to be sinking in. Right that moment the waiter arrives with their dessert – huh, Sam hadn’t even noticed she ordered for him as well – and then he hands them the check as well.

“Let me pay,” Sam tells her when she starts to dig for her wallet. She stops quickly to look at him, inspecting him thoroughly. Sam has never seen her so unsure about something that he really starts to wonder if he’s doing anything wrong.

“Right, a gentleman always pays on the first date,” Lauren comments suddenly when the words seem to have found their way again. The waiter frowns at them – who would have their date at a diner, anyway? 

“So he does,” Sam confirms. There’s that fluttering feeling again inside of him. He’s rarely seen that smile on her face ever since the date-that-wasn't-to-be, but now that it’s back there, and mostly because of him, it gets him all warm inside.

Why did they wait so long to talk this out, anyway?

Sam startles when, once again his cellphone makes noise. The device is lying on Lauren’s side of the table, so he reaches out for it to take it. It’s just a message, so there’s no hurry of picking up any calls. That’s why he takes his time now to open the message, once more coming from Dean.

 **_Incoming Message – Dean  
_ ** _Did you die or are you having sex with a certain lawyer? You know, since there’s no reaction and all._

Sam rolls his eyes and quickly types out an answer.

 **_Outgoing message – Dean  
_ ** _At least I’m not getting her pregnant_

He knows it’s a low blow, bur his brother just ruined the moment and Sam’s a little bit annoyed at that. When Lauren reads the message as well, she laughs, though, so it’s probably not too mean.

“Oh, no it’s mean,” Lauren suddenly says when Sam asks about it. “But it’s funny as well.”

Ah, right, because Lauren is kind of sadistic apparently. Whatever, it’s not like Dean will take it personally.

 ** _Incoming message – Dean_  
** _Maybe I should send Gabriel your way and give you the fertility treatment as well_

 **_Outgoing message – Dean  
_ ** _I’d love to see you try. Good luck finding her, jerk_

 **_Incoming message – Dean_ ** _  
Bitch_

After that, the messages stop, and Sam finally looks up to find Lauren pointing her fork towards him, trying to get him to taste a piece of her pie. Without complaining about being fed like a baby, he opens his mouth and allows her to feed him.

The pie isn’t bad, but it’s also not the best one, either. It’s good enough to be considered a decent dessert, at least.

They spend the next half our talking about certain points of their childhood. Lauren explains how her parents migrated from Spain to England back when they were very young, and how she’s never been to Spain in her life before. She speaks fluent Spanish and French, and she has a great knowledge of Latin apparently.

She doesn’t have any brothers or sisters, but there are a few cousins back in Spain that she’s never met. She’s been in short relationships before but those ended quickly due to her commitment issues.

“I’m not an easy person to be with, I have to admit right here,” Lauren explains to that. Sam feels like it’s a warning, like she’s trying to tell him to run away now, or he’ll be stuck with her and he’ll be doomed to be unhappy for the rest of his life.

“Most of my girlfriends died,” Sam adds dryly to that. It’s no use to try and sugarcoat it: Lauren, too, should know what she might be expecting in the future.

Well, at least Amelia didn’t die. That should count for something, right?

“Men are afraid of my dominance,” Lauren retorts, like that’s so much worse than Sam’s confession before. The hunter frowns, though. How could that be an issue in any way? Like she can read his mind, she explains further. “I don’t like being a follower. I prefer calling the shots, being the leader. I also tend to say out loud what’s bothering me about something, even if it might insult someone. I just – I can’t be restricted, can’t be held back.”

“So you’re bossy, so what?” Sam tells her. “If your previous partners are afraid of that, that’s their problem, not yours. I don’t mind if you speak up your mind – actually, I prefer that. At least that way there’s no bullshit between us.”

The way Lauren looks at him right now is like she’s fallen in love with him right on that spot. Sam wonders what could have caused that reaction, but there’s not much time to think about it, because suddenly there’s a hand grabbing his shirt and pulling him forward. Lauren’s lips crash hard against Sam’s, but it doesn’t make the kiss any less special.

Sam’s arm reaches forward, and his fingers find their way in Lauren’s soft hair. He wishes this kiss would never end – despite the awkward position they’re in at the moment. It’s not the most comfortable of them all, not even a single bit. That’s why the kiss ends so soon, in Sam’s opinion.

“Sam Winchester, take us back to our motel room,” Lauren whispers against his mouth. The hunter nods quickly and stands up right away. The amount money he’s thrown on the table is too much, but right now he doesn’t even care about that. All that matters right now is to get back to that room as fast as they can.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_Men of Letters HQ  
A few hours later_

 

Dean recognizes this kind of dream.

If it’s the dream where everything is black except for a circle around where he’s standing, it means that Gabriel is going to talk to him again. That’s why he’s not surprised to see the Archangel standing in front of him right after arriving there.

“Now you finally show you face,” Dean mutters at her, slightly annoyed that it took her this long to even bother to show up. Gabriel only stares at him in silence, face grim and shoulders tense. It’s a weird look on her, and it’s indication enough that something’s wrong. Worry flares up inside of Dean, and for a moment he’s scared that Gabriel changed her mind and she’s going to take the babies away.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” Gabriel then says. She sounds defeated, probably slightly irritated as well. Not that Dean cares, of course.

“Well, join the club,” Dean mutters to her in return. His answer doesn’t make any sense at all, but he feels like he made his point when Gabriel looks up at him with frustrated brown eyes.

“I wonder how you manage every time to screw Father over like this?” she tells him. She holds her hands behind her back for a moment, and then she starts circling around him. Dean doesn’t lose her out of his sight for even one moment. She seems serious about this, so he better pays attention right now.

“Are you talking about the twins? I think you just went way overboard with the fertilizer, pal,” Dean counters dryly. Gabriel seems unimpressed by that accusation. For a moment, she closes her eyes, like she’s thinking, and then, suddenly, another voice appears behind him.

“Hello, Dean,” the voice says. Dean jumps up in surprise and he turns around. When he finds Anna standing there – alive and well (at least, he thinks she is), he instinctively reaches for his stomach to shield it from her. “I’m not here to harm you,” she tells him.

“Yeah, no, last time I saw you, you were trying to kill my pregnant mother,” Dean mutters at her. He doesn’t trust her, and she should know that. How could she even think otherwise?

“I understand that you’re uneasy about my presence, but I fully regret my decisions of the past, though they were not completely my own,” Anna apologizes. Dean stares at her in confusion for a moment, before Gabriel clarifies for him.

“Anna’s brainwashing-session with Naomi went a little bit wrong, so she started doing weird shit she couldn’t control.”

Once again, here’s the great and valuable input from Gabriel. Priceless.

“Brainwashed or not, I don’t trust you,” Dean bites back. Anna just sighs and looks up at him sadly.

“Dean, I’m here to talk to you about the twins,” she tells him. Dean can already feel it coming. They’re going to tell him one of them has to go, that one bean has to be removed because the Prophecy says so. But he can’t have that. Nobody’s touching anything near him, because the two of those little beans are staying right where they are… for a few months, of course.

“You’re not removing them,” Dean argues quickly. Anna’s eyes go up to Gabriel for a moment, but Dean doesn’t catch the quiet communication going on between them. Great, first they’re invading his dream and now they’re gossiping about him right in front of him, and he can’t even hear a thing about it!

“We can’t remove one without killing the other,” Gabriel then finally reveals. “I brought Anna here because she’s better at doing these sort of things.”

“What kind of things?”

Seriously, what’s going on in here?

 

 

“Dean, you remember how Metatron said you’ll be losing weight over the next few months? The Nephilim will need more than you can give it, so it’ll find a way to feed itself another way.”

Dean nods. He’s gotten that part so far. No need to repeat that.

“There are two of them, this time,” Anna says, speaking urgently, like she’s willing him to just understand what she’s talking about. She’s implying something that is apparently so logical, but Dean just doesn’t get it.

“What? Just tell me already!”

“The nutrition the two Nephilim will need will be more than your body can give. They will take and take what they’ll need, and your body won’t be able to keep up.”

Right then, Dean already knows where this is going. He feels cold all of the sudden. His shoulders are heavy, and is he still standing? His knees feel so weak that he wonders how they just keep him up right now.

“So, basically, you’re saying that…?” he still asks, hoping that the answer to that question will not be what he thinks it’ll be. Anna and Gabriel now stand right next to each other, but only the redhead looks truly apologetic about it since she’s actually been human  once in her life.

“Basically, I’m saying that you won’t survive the birth of your two children.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, normally the case with Charlie would have been finished at the end of this chapter, but I was almost 40 pages further in my document and that's probably long enough for a chapter, so I had to split it up.  
> Also, yeaaaaah, more cliffhangers.


	20. Don't be so dramatic, Dean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once more apologies for the late updates. School and all that jazz always gets in the way.  
> In between writing some more of SpnGlee and The Prophecy, I finally counted out how many more chapters there will be. There's an end in sight, and also the idea for a sequel. Hurray.  
> This chapter is a little bit shorter than the others. Apologies. Also, when the whole story is finished, I'm doing a big clean up and I'll remove all the mistakes that I've missed so far! :-) 
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: Dean/Cas fight, once more.

_Lebanon, Kansas  
Men of Letters HQ_

Dean feels like he’s haunted. It keeps him awake during the rest of the night, and even during the next day all he ever does is look over his shoulder to make sure no reaper is coming after him.

Because that’s what it’s come to again; him having a deadline, an actual finish to his life. A point where he will ascend to Heaven (or be damned to Hell, but please not again), and will have to spend the rest of eternity there with his old friends surrounding him, but with his kids, husband and brother down here. And the idea of leaving them, of not even getting the chance to meet his own kids after they’re born just scares him immensely.

Of course, if it’s a choice between having the kids and die in return, or killing the kids and live a little longer with that guilt all over him, the choice is easily made. There’s no way the twins are going. His life is not more important than theirs. Even when he’s gone, they’ll have an amazing father that will look after them, and an uncle that will love them still, despite that their arrival means Dean’s departure.

They will go on, because Dean doesn’t want it any other way. But that doesn’t take away the feeling that he’s being haunted. And not just by a ghost, but by the actual Death, the horseman who is _kind of_ a friend to them, but would never admit that out loud since Dean is only just an amoeba in comparison to him.

His day starts with a phone call to Sam and Lauren, who are now on their way to question another woman whose name was given to Charlie during the mysterious torture that was the beating to death she’s given to that guy. They didn’t speak very long, and mostly their answers sounded rushed, but Dean barely even cared at this point. Trying to understand those two is just the biggest challenge of them all, and he has long since given up on ever achieving that, anyway.

Dean finds Cas in the kitchen around noon. The Angel is busy making some scrambled eggs, but Dean knows he won’t be allowed to eat some since he’s still on his strict diet. There’s no point at going against Linda on this matter. That woman knows how to get her point across.

_“Oh, so now there’s TWO of them? Then you got to take better care of yourself! I’m going to check your diet personally, and make sure that you eat EVERYTHING! You need enough food in your system so those little ones in there don’t starve to death by your poor eating choices.”_

Yeah, Dean remembers her speech well enough. Linda Tran is one scary woman, but she always manages to get her point across.

When she gets into the kitchen as well, Dean is already preparing himself for her story of the day – she has found a comfort in telling Dean all of her impossible stories during her pregnancy with Kevin, much to the Prophet’s embarrassment. Dean has heard things he’d rather not ever think about.

“Hello,” she tells him right before going to the coffee machine and getting herself a refill. Dean just nods at her, but decides to stay close to Cas. His head is resting on the Angel’s shoulder while he hugs him from behind, and he pretty much enjoys this position so he’d rather not move just yet.

“Hi, Linda,” Dean greets her quietly. Cas looks up for a moment and greets her as well, and then he takes one of Dean’s hands off his stomach and holds it up to his mouth to kiss the skin gently. Dean just snuggles his face closely against his neck. He loves it when Cas does those soft gestures. No matter how low Dean might think of himself, moments like these always make him feel like he’s worth something, like he matters enough to be loved.

Kevin’s annoyed groan is the thing that pulls them apart. The Prophet is rolling his eyes at them before he sits down. “You two just can’t stop to make things awkward, can you?” he asks in irritation. Dean wants to answer, but before anything can get out there’s a wooden spoon hitting him on the head by his own mother.

“Kevin Tran, you bring home a girlfriend of your own and then think back of these words you just said!” she chastises him. Kevin pushes the spoon away after the second hit, and then starts to rub his head with a pained expression.

“I had a girlfriend once, remember?” Kevin snaps back. Dean then remembers the young Asian girl that was possessed by one of Crowley’s demons, and then killed by the King himself. It’s really saddening that Crowley had to involve her in all this shit.

“I’m sorry Sweety,” Linda apologizes. “I forgot about it.” She presses a short kiss on the spot she just hit him on with the spoon. Then she walks back and gets her cup of coffee back from where she put it. “But I was talking about a girlfriend you see more than you see your schedule for school.”

Dean snorts quietly, earning him a glare from the Prophet seated at the table. Cas doesn’t speak at all but just starts serving the eggs on three plates – Dean’s meal will probably soon be prepared by Linda, who’s already washing her hands for it. Then the Angel puts the plates on the table, kisses Dean on the cheek, and sits down to start eating.

“Should we ask if Crowley wants some?” Kevin wonders out loud. Everybody shares a short look at each other, and eventually Dean surrenders.

“HEY CROWLEY!” he shouts. “THERE’S LUNCH READY! HURRY UP OR IT WILL BE GONE!”

There’s no answer. The whole bunker is silent except for in the kitchen.

“Huh, maybe he’s sleeping?” Kevin asks. He stands up again and heads for the hallway leading to the bedrooms. Dean watches him go but doesn’t comment on it. He doesn’t really care about the guy. The only reason he’s allowed to stay here is because they’re not cruel enough to just let him wander around in the world with nowhere to go to – Though by now Dean would have thought he would have found his way back in there.

Castiel doesn’t seem worried, either. He’s slowly cutting his omelet in pieces and takes gentle bites from it with his eyes closed.

In two minutes, Kevin returns to the kitchen, confusion clear on his face. That’s alarming enough for Dean, who sits up, ready to get into action is necessary.

“He’s not in his room,” Kevin says, shrugging though it’s obvious that he’s ill at ease. Dean turns his head towards Castiel, who by now has looked up as well. Crowley wouldn’t just leave like that, right? He can barely take care of himself as it is (or maybe he can but he chooses not to, being used to being taken care off).

“Maybe he’s having another forbidden chat with his mother,” Castiel offers. It is possible, but nobody here hopes that’s actually the case. There’s not much they know about Rowena, but they are aware that she’s a dangerous bitch and that Dean would rather have her dead than alive in their dungeon.

“It’s worth taking a look, I guess,” Dean mutters. He pushes his chair back to stand up from the table, and Castiel follows him. He leaves his breakfast lying there to follow Dean towards the dungeon. Dean knows the Angel is trying to be protective, and normally he would object to it, but right now he doesn’t feel like telling him to sit back down.

They leave the kitchen in silence, but they are aware of Kevin’s and Linda’s nervous eyes watching them go. Everybody hopes that they’re wrong, that Crowley isn’t on another secret visit to his mother. They don’t know what the woman is capable of, and they’re not sure if Crowley’s allegiance is to them. Sure, the guy helped them out once in a while, but mostly he’d rather just stayed in the background without having to make any effort.

Dean is quiet while he walks in front. His eyes are stuck to the floor as he tries to keep himself from running. Surely, there’s nothing wrong. There’s no need for panic, Rowena is still in the dungeon, Crowley is just having a strange morning walk, and Dean and Cas can just spend their afternoon in the couch together with no minor drama’s upon them.

He startles when a hand suddenly grabs his, and when he turns around, Cas is looking at him with a hard expression. Then the Angel nods towards the door in front of them. It’s an offer to go first – another part of his mission to protect Dean from every danger. There’s no use in fighting it, so Dean just sighs and nods. He takes a step back and allows Cas to pass him by.

The door opens with a high-pitched noise, but they quickly find themselves in the room filled with artefacts and books. Normally, the dungeon is hidden behind the giant shelves filled with ingredients for spells and more.

It should be closed.

But it isn’t.

“Damnit!” Dean shouts when he sees over Cas’s shoulder that the dungeon is empty. The handcuffs are lying on the ground, opened by the key lying right next to it. Then the circle that is supposed to keep Rowena in has been broken. Apart for them two, there’s no-one else in here.

Crowley and Rowena are on the loose, and it happened right under their noses.

 

* * *

 

 

_Topeka, Kansas_

There’s a blue house at the end of the road. It should be considered beautiful, but, surrounded by all these trees, it looks really awful. That, of course, is Lauren’s opinion of it when Sam pulls over the car. The house they’re currently looking at is the one on the address given to them; where Barbara Cordy lives.

Sam and Lauren don’t think for long before getting out of the car. They’ve discussed everything back at the motel – amongst other things, of course – and agreed that they would just pretend to be agents like they always do, and just question the woman to find out what her involvement is with this Charlie-person.

Before they completely walk away from the car, Lauren stops the hunter in front of her to straighten his tie. It’s loosened a little bit, and his hair has gotten messier during the drive, so she passes her hand through his locks as well.

“Now you’re all set,” she tells him with a smile on her face. She’s wearing red lipstick, so when she bares her teeth, they look extremely white. Sam takes her hand in his own and squeezes it gently before letting it go again.

“Let’s go,” he says. Lauren nods, and then they’re back on their way to the ugly blue house.

When they ring the doorbell it doesn’t take long for the woman to open the door. She opens the door slowly, but Lauren is sure she isn’t mistaking when she finds there are suitcases in the hallway. Or the woman is just leaving on vacation, or she’s just coming back from it.

“Barbara Cordry?” Sam asks the moment the door is fully open and the woman is staring at them in mild surprise with her mail still in her hands.

“Can I help you?” she asks. She looks mildly nervous in Lauren’s opinion. Her hand is still on the door, ready to close it if necessary.

“Yes, I’m Special Agent Gabriel, this is my partner Special Agent Collins,” Sam introduces them. They agreed beforehand to pull out their fake badges at the introduction, so Lauren reaches for her inner pocket and fishes it out. She still admires Dean’s work, but it still bothers her how illegal it is. Especially considering she’s been practicing law for quite a while now, suddenly breaking it like that would cause a normal human being a whiplash.

“May we come in?” Sam adds quickly while pulling his badge back. Lauren slowly follows him, but remains quiet the whole time. Barbara Cordry just shifts on her feet and crosses her arms. Because of her short haircut she looks extremely strict.

“We have some questions about a drunk-driving case from a while back involving the Middleton family,” Sam explains to her. The woman nervously turns her head towards Lauren as she answers in return.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she says. Lauren can tell right away that she’s lying. Her eyes move too fast between the two of them, her feet are shifting all the time – those are the nervous tics that Lauren has trained herself to find in another person.

“Ma’am, if we could just-“ Lauren starts, but she’s quickly cut off again.

“Sorry, I’m still on vacation,” Cordry says in an excuse while pointing at her luggage still standing in the hallway. “Feel free to schedule an appointment with my assistant; she’ll pencil you both in.”

And with that, the bitch turns around and shuts the door right in their faces. Lauren lets out a long breath as she looks at the door. This woman knows something she doesn’t want to share, and Sam is aware of that fact, too.

“Guilty much?” Lauren asks. Sam shrugs. They turn their backs to the door – it’s not like the woman will open it again for them. Sam warned her beforehand about this possible outcome. The only thing left for them to do is to guard the house from a distance, and to get in action whenever commotion is made from the inside.

Lauren quickly discovers that it’s an awfully boring job. While she’s looking through the files from Charlie they got last night she’s eating from a kale sandwich Sam hastily put together for her that morning. It’s a healthy meal – she wouldn’t expect anything else from Sam Winchester – but to say that it’s her favorite might be too much.

Nothing happens. More often than not Lauren closes her eyes to try and catch up on sleep, but most of the time she just yearns to start a conversation with Sam. She doesn’t know what to tell him, or what they could possibly talk about, so she stays quiet.

Maybe if she taps her fingers loudly against her leg Sam might notice how restless she’s at this point. It’s an idea that she shouldn’t push away instantly, and she might have used it if their cellphone didn’t go off.

It’s Sam’s, but the device is lying on Lauren’s lap since she’d used it earlier. There’s no awkwardness when Sam takes it, and there’s even a brush of their skin touching. With a smile she remembers last night, and how much she wants that to happen again. Sam smirks back at her, too.

“Yeah?” he says when he picks up. There’s no need to identify himself since not many people have his number. Lauren shuffles a little bit to the side so she can lean her head on Sam’s shoulder, and then she just sighs. Her eyes are still glued on the ugly blue house. She can understand that people would adore it, but Lauren just finds it hideous. In her childhood years she’s grown up in a big white house – so it might be right to consider that her parents were wealthy. There had been a big garden with many birthday parties in it, and even a heated swimming pool.

But it’s not like she misses all those things in her current life. She had found stability in her little apartment back in the village. She never really liked all the wealth they’d had back in the day, anyway.

“They what?!” Sam shouts out angrily. Lauren lifts her head from his shoulder to look at him questioningly, but Sam just puts up his hand. _I’ll tell you right away_ , Lauren understands, so she waits for him to finish patiently. “How could you not notice it? He’s Crowley, for crying out loud!”

Lauren can hear Dean shouting something back at Sam, but the words are muffled from where she’s sitting. He’s explaining quite some things apparently, and Sam’s face is only getting redder from anger.

“No, this is not okay, Dean!” Sm counters. “She was supposed to be heavily guarded! Crowley was not allowed close to her, and yet nobody made an effort to keep him away. How can you possibly be surprised that they ran away?”

“Crowley got his mother out?” Lauren asks when she’s heard enough information to draw her own conclusions. Sam ignores her, which, auwtch, that stings.

“No, Dean, I’m working a case right now. Send somebody else to go and find him? Maybe Cas can go with Kevin? I don’t know!”

More silence. If it’s even possible Sam turns even redder.

“Dean, you know damn well why you can’t go! You wanted to keep the babies, you have to sacrifice a few things to keep them safe!”

Lauren sighs when she understands that they’re back to this conversation. She turns her head back to the house. Still no sign of this Charlie-girl. Lauren never met her, really, but from what she’s heard about her, this behavior isn’t really to be expected from her.

There’s a moment Lauren thinks she’s imagining it when she suddenly hears a shout coming from the house. It might as well be her imagination letting her hear things she wants to hear because she’s bored out of her mind.

“I got to go,” Sam says from next to her, and that’s proof enough that she isn’t imagining it. Instantly her hand is on the handle to open the door. Sam follows her example. He hands her a gun, and they hurry to the house. It’s Sam that kicks the door open. His gun is raised in the air.

It’s quiet inside. That’s not a good sign. When Lauren sees that Sam is aiming his gun forward, ready to shoot if necessary, she copies his movements. She knows how to shoot the thing, and thanks to Castiel’s lessons, she now has a basic knowledge of self-defense.

When they walk into a hallway, it’s Sam that spots the shards of glass lying on the ground, meaning that there must have been fighting. He gestures at Lauren to follow him. She just nods in return, mouth shut tightly.

It’s just a slight turn to the left, but there’s a clear view of a young woman holding a long knife against the woman’s neck. She looks different from the file Lauren has gotten. To start, she’s older – she _had_ been twelve at the time of the accident. Her hair is also shorter.

And then there’s the smile. The look on this woman’s face lacks that happy smile that was shown on the picture. This version of Charlie looks evil, angry. Like she’s actually enjoying this.

She takes a few steps back when Sam and Lauren approach, and the downward curl of her lips suddenly goes up, instead turning into an evil grin.

“Here I actually thought Rocket would be with Groot when I was found. Who’s your new little friend, Sammy?” the girl asks. Lauren casts her eyes shortly towards Sam, but he doesn’t move.

“Let her go,” the hunter pleads on.

“Who?” Charlie asks, looking genuinely surprised. Lauren doesn’t notice that she’s lowered her gun, but when she does she lifts it up again. “Oh, her?” She pulls her hand back and then punches Barbara in her face. There’s blood on the lower side of her lip now.

“Don’t do this,” the hunter adds. His voice shudders from the sudden shock.

“I just want answers,” Charlie explains calmly.

“So you just start pounding on people for those?” Lauren asks before she can think better of it. “What the hell happened to you in Oz?”

“Oh, she’s British?” Charlie says with a smirk on her face, but that quickly disappears “Everything I wanted happened in Oz. I got an adventure, and even my own little sword.” She gestures with the blade, and Barbara’s eyes go wide for a moment.

“Charlie,” Sam starts.

“Oh, Sam, you’re adorable,” Charlie interrupts him. “You’re not gonna hurt me. In fact, that’s your problem; all good-guy code, no bite. What a waste.” And then she turns towards Lauren. “And you, I can see all that anger inside of you. You look like you wouldn’t mind killing someone. Running along with the Winchesters will hold you back, sweetheart.”

“Okay, all right, you know what? I don’t know what’s going in on here, okay?” Lauren asks. She pulls the gun back and drops it on the ground to resist shooting her in the face. “I’ve heard so many things about you, Charlie, good things. But this? This is not the you that I’ve been told about.”

“Oh, it’s me, all right,” Charlie mutters.

“If it’s really you in there, then put the knife down and let her go,” Lauren adds loudly to it. “We don’t want to hurt you, missy, but there’s no damn way we’re going to let you do-“

Charlie pushes Barbara forward because Lauren can finish her sentence, and then the girl is making her leave out of the house in speed tempo. Barbara falls into Sam’s hands, where she will be safe. With just one short look at her, Sam manages to tell Lauren to go after Charlie, and so she does.

She’s tricky, though, pushing a chair in the entryway and forcing Lauren to take the door on the other side – it’s that or tripping over the chair, having Charlie escaping and adding a few bruises to the pile she already has.

Despite her attempt, Charlie doesn’t manage to lose Lauren, and she’s pushed on the ground when the woman throws herself over her, grabbing her by her legs as she falls herself. Charlie comes down with a grunt. She’s still struggling even when Lauren is trying to restrain her, and there’s no single form of fighting that Castiel could have prepared her for when Charlie starts wrapping her own legs around Lauren’s shoulders.

“Crap,” Lauren mutters out with her face pressed right against her own arm. She struggles with trying to keep a hold of Charlie’s arm, but eventually has to let go. Charlie turns them around, sitting herself on top of Lauren with her fist raised in the air.

“Hmmm, this is actually extremely hot, don’t you think?” Charlie mutters out to her, shortly hesitating in hitting her on the face. Right, Lauren remembers now. Charlie likes women, and for an outsider this position might be considered… yeah…

“Though I have to agree with you, I’d rather not have that fist up against my face,” Lauren confesses hesitantly. Charlie just grins and ignores her wishes, punching her right against her cheek. Lauren grunts painfully. She tastes the blood inside her own mouth; that was a good punch. Charlie’s extremely strong.

She barely notices Charlie getting off her and walking back towards the door, but when she does, she gets another kick in the face. It’s not too hard, but it still hurts like hell.

“Sam!” she shouts out in pain, hoping that the hunter will get there in time to hold her back. Still, there’s no time to waste, so with all the power that she has left Lauren gets up again – ignoring the glaring pain in her face – and she gets out.

There’s many ways Charlie could have gotten. The garden is quite big, and the whole house is surrounded by a forest behind the road. If Lauren could just track her down, it won’t be too difficult to follow her.

Lauren runs back to the road; it’s the only logical choice. The moment she gets out of the garden, an engine starts up from a little further away. In a thick black car Charlie drives past her with a glare on her face for a short time. Right before she’s completely out of sight, she throws a wink at her.

_The car, I can chase her!_ she thinks, but as soon as she gets to the door, she finds that the tires are cut and that there’s no possible way for her to drive out of here.

“Oh, you bitch!” Lauren shouts, seeing the car disappearing out of sight quite slowly. Then there’s another car pulling up behind her. Lauren turns around and finds it to be small and yellow. It’s happy and something she would have actually expected from this Charlie-person.

But that’s probably because it is Charlie behind the wheel.

Though that’s impossible, since Charlie just drove away.

Lauren blinks her eyes for a few times to try and focus again, but her sight isn’t lying; in the yellow car, Charlie is seated behind the wheel, with her hair short and curly, and a big smile on her face.

“Hey miss, something wrong?” Charlie’s familiar voice asks Lauren when she pulls up next to her and leans to the side to speak through the window. Lauren frowns and leans forward as well, mostly to get another good look at the person in the car. Where the hell is Sam?

Once more she turns to look where Charlie normally took off in the black van. She’s certain of it; there are two of them. But how?

Back from the house, Sam finally emerges through the opening to the garden. He keeps his head to the side in search of Lauren, and when he finds her – and Charlie – he stops in his tracks, mouth fallen open. His hair is wild from all the running.

Charlie turns her head as well.

“Right, um… we should probably catch up,” she confesses. Then she points at Lauren. “Is the pretty one with you?”

About half an hour later both their cars are parked in a little parking lot from a bar called _Berto’s Ale House_. The first thing Charlie does is order a water for the three of them before even asking (“It’s healthy and it’s good for you, what else could you even want?”), and then she starts explaining about everything that happened back in Oz. Lauren does notice how she sometimes stumbles over her words whenever she looks her way, and she knows she isn’t imagining the blush on the woman’s face during those times.

“There’s two of you – one good, one… bad?” Sam asks curiously after she’s finished. Charlie nods and sucks some more water through her straw in such a slow pace.

“Yeah, what, dick you is some sort of a ninja?” Lauren comments dryly before Charlie can swallow the water, and once again that blush returns.

“She is a badass, yeah,” Charlie gets out uncertainly with a slight smile on her face. She’s looking at Lauren for a few short seconds before the smile leaves her face again and she shoots her eyes back down to the table.

“Okay, hold on, back up,” Sam stops her when it all just gets too confusing for him. “We were there for Dorothy, Oz, yellow brick road, but then…?”

“War,” Charlie finishes his sentence. “The war for Emerald City. It was awesome, until not so much.” She looks sad at this comment. Her eyes meet another short time with both Sam and Lauren, who are just listening to her intently.

“We were gonna lose, so I made a deal with the wizard…” She looks ashamed for a moment. “Of Oz,” she then clarifies. “Wears a hood and a creepy mask, kind of a jerk – good times. He said for us to win, I had to unleash my true darkness, which he meant literally. He used the inner key of Oz; it opens a door to your soul and lets the darkness out. Uh, we’re still connected physically. If you hurt her, you hurt me. But bottom line, she’s bad and I’m good.”

For a moment it looks like she’s done talking, but then her face scrunches up in disgust. “And let me just tell you, being good is really annoying. Normally in a place like this, I’d be pounding Harvey Wallbangers and checking out the bartender’s ass. Now all I want to do is sip club soda and send her to college.”

Lauren turns towards the bartender she’s talking about, seeing a young girl cleaning up the counter. She’s tanned and has long brown hair, but it doesn’t look like she enjoys being here all that much.

“Okay, uh… good Charlie. So why is dark Charlie gunning for revenge?” Lauren asks. She slaps Sam on the arm when he stares at the bartender a tad bit too long, and it earns her a glare in return from the hunter. She knows Sam doesn’t mean anything by it, but it just feels good to be able to tease him like that.

“She’s trying to win me back. Dark Charlie won the war… single-handedly. But she did some truly awful things.”

There’s a hint of sadness and disgust in the woman’s face. “I told her I didn’t want any part of her near me again, ever. Going after the person who mur- mur- uh… Who took my parents away is her messed-up way of showing me how close we are, or- or could be. I keep calling her “she”, but she’s me. I’m the one doing this.”

“Charlie, that’s – that’s now who you are, okay?” Lauren finally says after Charlie is done speaking down on herself. “It’s a twisted version of…”

“Me,” Charlie finishes for her. This time there’s no blush, just disappointment and shame. “I’ve been following her so I can catch her before she does something stupid and just lock her away forever.”

Sam seems to hesitate about that. His eyebrows are pulled together and his lips are thin lines while he thinks Charlie’s answer over.

“Charlie, that’s not an answer,” he tells her gently. Lauren nods as she agrees.

“Sam’s right. We’ll go back to… Oz, and we’ll… we’ll get the key from the wizard of jackasses and put you back together,” Lauren offers as solution. It feels weird do talk about Oz like it’s a real thing, but by now Lauren knows that there shouldn’t be much that will surprise her even more.

But this time Charlie seems to disagree. She shakes her head and turns around to go and grab her backpack, searching for something. “Even if I did want her back, look, dark me broke the key,” she says as she suddenly holds up a piece of a strange wooden piece with drawings on it. Sam’s eyes go wide, but to Lauren it doesn’t mean a thing. “There’s no way to get back to the wizard.”

Or, wait… _that’s_ the key?

Lauren reaches out for it, and once more a small blush appears on Charlie’s face when she hands it to her. With big eyes, Lauren inspects the thing, wondering what’s so special about it. It’s just a piece of wood with decorations. No way could it be a key or something.

“Okay, okay,” Sam interrupts her train of thoughts. “First thing’s first. We need to find dark Charlie before she finds the drunk driver.”

Charlie nods eagerly.

“So, we know Barbara gave up her old bank statements, right? That means dark Charlie will probably follow the money back to whoever made the payoffs.”

“That’s what I would do,” Charlie comments on it. Lauren agrees that it’s not a bad theory.

“All right,” Sam finishes. He seems content that there’s some sort of agreement here. He pulls his chair back for a moment and goes down to get his laptop out of his back. Lauren eyes the empty glasses on the table, and takes them in her hands.

“I’ll get some refills,” she says. She gets a small nod from Charlie who’s fidgeting in her seat, but Sam shakes his head and picks up his cup of coffee again. Lauren just rolls her eyes and doesn’t forget to let her hand pass over his arm in an affectionate way. Sam smiles up at her shortly, and then turns back towards Charlie. What he asks, Lauren doesn’t know, since she’s already on her way to the bar.

She puts down the glasses on the counter and nods at the waiter who asks her to wait just a minute, and then her eyes pass over the mirror behind the bartender. There’s a sigh escaping her mouth the moment she notices the massive hickey in her neck. Damn it, Sam couldn’t keep it lower, no?

Luckily, it’s easily hidden away with the collar of her dress since she’s once again wearing a turtleneck. She lifts it up a little higher, tries to keep her cheeks from coloring red. When the bartender calls for her attention she startles.

“Yeah, just a refill on these waters and a coffee,” she says to the man. She gets a nod in return, and then the glasses are taken away. She figures Sam might want a water after his coffee is finished, and Lauren just needs the caffeine right now, so she ignores Charlie’s speech of water being healthy.

The bartender tells her she can go back to her seat and that they will bring it to the table. Lauren thanks him and turns back around towards the table, where Charlie seems to be explaining something to Sam, who’s furiously typing down on the laptop.

They find the man responsible for the death of Charlie’s parents. It’s a guy called Russel Wellington, some sort of business-dude with a creepy smile. When Charlie sees his picture for the first time, she starts stuttering out some words. When Lauren sees that she’s getting uncomfortable, she puts her hand on the screen to close it down. Charlie startles for a moment. Her eyes are big when she stares back at Lauren.

They agree to take good Charlie back to the bunker to search anything else that might help with getting back to Oz. But, at the same time, they can’t leave the guy alone to be beaten up by dark Charlie, no matter how much he deserves it.

So that’s when they agree to split up; Sam goes to protect Russel Wellington. Lauren and Charlie go back to the bunker and go on their search for any goods in there. Sam doesn’t seem exactly thrilled about having to protect this piece of crap, but it would be against his nature not to do it. His hand finds Lauren’s on the table for a few short seconds, and then before anybody can think better of it, he kisses her lightly on the lips and gets up from his seat. He shortly waves them goodbye before he’s out.

When Lauren glances back at Charlie, she finds the woman staring with open eyes.

“How long has that been going on?” she asks, pointing back at where Sam just left. Lauren shrugs.

“You want the long story or the short one?” she retorts, and Charlie’s eyes go wide. She doesn’t ask, though, because her face seems to indicate that she thinks it’s not her place. Her fingers tap the table nervously while they sit there in silence, waiting for Lauren to finish her coffee.

“So how’s Dean and Cas?” then comes out of the redhead’s mouth. Lauren accidentally breathes in a bit of her coffee, and she starts coughing in return. Charlie quickly sits back up, at the verge of getting up and actually helping out.

“They’re good for now,” Lauren says when she’s regained her breath. Charlie nods excitedly. “They’re expecting twins if you can believe it?”

“Who’s expecting twins?”

“Oh, you don’t know yet?” Lauren remembers. Then she snorts lightly. “That’s an even longer story, I’ll tell you on the way. Come on.”

And with that the two get up and leave the bar.

 

* * *

 

 

_Lebanon, Kansas_

Dean isn’t scowling.

There might nog be a smile present on his face, and he _does_ feel particularly pissed of for multiple reasons, but he’s _not_ scowling. And certainly not because both Sam and Cas forbade him to go after Crowley. Most certainly not; why would he even care about that?

Oh, probably because he’s not a freaking child that can’t take care of himself. Even Cas’s argument of ‘ _You’re a ticking time bomb, bringing you along might cause even more deaths than there have been aleady’_ doesn’t seem valid in his ears.

What’s they’re issue with it anyway? Dean’s managed to control the kids before, right? They were well on their way to kill off two stupid little punks making the mistake of trying to kill him, but he held back, right?

In any way, Dean is seated in the library with his eyebrows frowning as he watches the screen of the laptop in front of him, with freaking meditation music playing in the background because _‘it helps clear your mind,_ Dean,’ Linda had said. And most importantly, he’s _not scowling_.

When the doors to the bunker open up back in the main hall, Dean looks up from the words in front of him. It’s not like he was reading them anyway.

“Hello?” he asks, surprised at how rough his voice sounds after being quiet for so long. He scrapes his throat once and stands up. Could Cas be back so soon?

“Dean?” comes out from the main room, and no, that’s not Cas but Lauren. She and Sam are back from their hunt? That was quick?

“Lau? Sam? What are you doing here so soon? Did you find Char-“ Dean stops talking when he just sees the lawyer walk down the stairs with the redheaded girl following right behind her. His brother is nowhere in sight.

“Wow, I see what you mean there, he looks like himself, but he has boobs,” Charlie mutters out with big eyes the moment she catches a glimpse of Dean standing there. The hunter rolls his eyes and automatically throws his arms around her in a greeting hug the moment she’s close enough.

“It’s good to see you, too,” Dean tells her. Charlie nods, but pulls back quickly enough to stare some more at Dean.

“It’s so freaky! Your face is the same, but you can see the differences! Your chin is thinner, so is your nose. Your jaw is less sharp, your eyelashes are even longer, if that’s even possible! The biggest difference – aside from the boobs of course – is that your hair is longer! That a side effect?” Charlie rambles on without taking a breath. Dean doesn’t know whether he should chuckle or be insulted. He knows Charlie means well; she always does.

“Yeah, no, if I have to be a chick, I have to at least appear like one,” Dean mutters out. Charlie snorts lightly.

“There are women with short hair, Dean, it’s not that uncommon!” she gets out jokingly. Dean throws a look at Lauren, who raises an eyebrow at him in amusement. “If you fear about people thinking you’re a lesbo, don’t worry! You kind of are right now, and even if you were a man again, you’re still kind of in a gay relationship with an Angel in a dude’s body.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t even know what to say to this anymore,” Dean mumbles, passing his hand through his hair in confusion. Charlie and Lauren laugh gently, and then he’s once again pulled into a hug, this time without Charlie pulling away instantly. There’s a happy buzz inside of him, and a thought passes through his mind as if someone else is thinking them.

_‘This is nice,’_ the Grace says. Dean can recognize it better now, even though the voices aren’t as strong as when they’re angry.

“I’m happy to see you again, Dean,” Charlie finally admits, and Dean then leans in to the hug. He squeezes her tightly to tease her, and then the woman pulls away with a yelp. “No! I don’t want to hurt the babies!” she shouts loudly. She scrambles back to Lauren and keeps her hands in the air, staring right back at Dean with a panicked face.

Dean can only roll his eyes to that. That’s such a typical thing of Charlie to say, it’s almost endearing if it weren’t so ridiculous.

“In contrary, they really liked the hug,” Dean admits with a big smile, seeing Charlie’s mouth dropping even wider than before. Yeah, the fact that the Grace of his kids can communicate with him mentally might be one of those important details.

“You can _hear_ them? Do you know the genders yet? Do they even know? What are they thinking most of the time?” The questions keep on coming, and Dean’s eyes widen again, unable to hold back an even wider grin.

“Calm down, Charlie,” he tells her, chuckling softly. He puts his hands on her shoulders to keep her still. “Weren’t you ladies here for a reason? Why isn’t Sam here with you?”

Lauren shrugs, but Dean doesn’t miss the small blush on her face. Something totally went on there last night. Dean thought they’d never get to it, but here they finally are!

“Sam keeps an eye on Wellington, making sure Charlie doesn’t pulverize him with her anger,” she explains shortly. That couldn’t be right, Dean surely heard wrong because Charlie is there in front of him. Don’t say he’s gotten to the point of hallucinations, now!

“His head is going overdrive, Lauren, we’ll need to explain quickly,” Charlie adds. She guides Dean back to his seat at the table, and the two women quickly come to sit across him.

As soon as Dean is made aware of the whole situation, he can’t even find himself to be surprised. He helps them out in their research, goes to fish out some books and documents about the Men of Letters that might help them forward in this case, and for the next two hours they sit there in silence with their eyes stuck on the paper.

There is so much written about the Men of Letters that Dean doesn’t even know where to start. They have to go through every file to see if there’s even a slight mention about the key to Oz, but more often than not he just reads nonsense. A Soul Shattering Knife, an exorcising musical tune that forces a demon out, a werther box or whatever that has managed to kill many of their own. The crazy inventions keep on coming – though he memorizes the exorcising melody since that might come in handy, and then he goes for the next file.

When he comes across the file of Clive Dillon, the first thing he reads is the name ‘Oz’. He barely manages to keep back a shout of happiness when he makes the connection, but he does throw his arms in the air in victory. Lauren looks up with a raised eyebrow. Charlie just frowns.

“I got it! Clive Dillon,” Dean says. He pushes the file forward a little bit so the other two can read along. “He’s the one that discovered the key to Oz! Poor sucker went to Oz but left the key on Earth!!”

“How did he ever return?” Charlie wonders out loud, pulling he file towards her to read in advance.

“The key was later found by L. Frank Baum, Dorothy’s father, and then he went to rescue Clive in Oz!” The pride must be clear on his face, and his cheeks start to hurt from smiling all the time, but it’s not very often that he’s the one to bring essential information to a case (and Sam and Cas would disagree with him there and tell him that he’s worth so much more than he thinks, but Dean decides to ignore them more often than not).

“That’s when Dorothy snuck along for the ride and got stuck there,” Charlie mutters. There’s a hint of sadness when she mentions Dorothy – Dean knows they were together, he saw it when they came to visit her back there. It must be hard on her to be separated from her for such a long time.

“After being rescued, Clive came back and retired,” Lauren recites with a low voice, shaking her head right away. “I didn’t know you could retire from the Men of Letters?”

“Well, according to the file he was put in some sort of witness-protection program or whatever,” Dean shrugs. That’s the only downside about this file; it doesn’t explain right away where the guy might be hiding out – if he’s even still alive.

“Let’s find out where he ended up, shall we?” Lauren starts before Dean can even suggest it, and everybody nods, digging back into the files that might contain more of those witness-protections. It takes another hour for them to go through ten more files, but finally Charlie seems to stumble upon the right thing.

“The Men of Letters gave Clive a new name, a new house, both of which are still listed. I think Clive might be still alive,” she gets out in wonder, her eyes going from the file to her right to the laptop on her left.

“What?” Lauren gasps out in surprise. “He’d be like, hundred-something!”

Charlie just shrugs. “Time passes differently in Oz,” she explains like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Dean has to agree with her, though. When he went to spend the weekend at Oz, a week had passed back on Earth. It’s a little bit like how everything goes slower in Heaven, too. Cas might think he’s gone for a day while in fact he’s out for three weeks.

“It’s close by,” Dean says. “Let’s go look. If he’s still kicking, he’s the only person who might be able to fix the key to Oz…”

Another nod comes from the two women, and then everybody quickly stands up – including Dean. He already moves to go and get his jacket, but when he notices that Charlie and Lauren don’t follow him, he turns around in confusion, only to find them staring at him with the same expression.

“What?”

“It’s just,” Charlie hesitates. “You should stay here, I think,” she offers, looking literally uncomfortable. Dean frowns even more now, and he crosses his arms together.

“What, are you going to forbid me to come along? Aren’t you supposed to be extra-good?” he bites out angrily. Charlie flinches at his hard tone – Dean could have kept it down a little bit, but he just can’t help feeling angry at how he’s treated all the time.

“I am. Taking you along with those two little ones inside of you, it might be dangerous. It would be bad to let you come along,” Charlie almost whispers. Lauren doesn’t say anything.

“Wha- You know I can handle myself, right? The kids can’t get hurt just like that,” Dean defends himself.

“Yeah, I heard. It’s just because of what they can do that you should stay here, before anybody else can get hurt.”

Dean drops his arms, remembering once more how it felt to have his body moving, punching and stabbing without his consent. How his arms and legs were being controlled by a force inside of him. He remembers how terrified he was the first time the Grace took over. Remembers how he almost killed two young people had Claire not stopped him.

So he doesn’t start defending himself. There’s nothing to say, either. Charlie is right, and even if Dean would still insist on coming along, Lauren would surely convince him to stay right here with her weird manipulative skill.

“Fine,” he mutters out. He puts his hands in his pockets and comes to sit down again. He could at least start piling up the files again, put them back where they’re supposed to be. Charlie and Lauren don’t say anything more. Dean can see on the redhead’s face that she’s conflicted about it, but from Lauren it’s clear that she doesn’t really feel bad about it. Dean huffs a little bit before picking up the files again.

Right, where did he get them from?

“We’ll be going, okay?” comes from behind him. Dean just waves at them dismissively and resumes on the cleanup, probably going to sulk a little longer before Cas comes back home. Even with Linda running around somewhere, he feels lonely. If he would go up to her, she would probably shove another diet in his face, but talking to her might be better than to just sit here, waiting for anything else to happen.  

When he finds Linda, she’s standing in the kitchen, already preparing another meal for them to eat. Most of what she’s preparing is unknown to him, but he does recognize the smell of chicken the moment he notices it. He’s glad his nausea is now only limited to the morning, so he doesn’t feel too sick when he gets inside.

“Hey Linda,” Dean greets the woman. She turns her head towards him for a second, and a smile immediately shows on her face. It’s not a very convincing smile; she’s probably worried about Kevin being out for that long.

“Hey sweety,” comes out in return. “Before you ask, yes, that’s chicken.” Dean makes a winning movement with his hands the moment he hears the news. He can live with chicken, because that at least is not poison.

“And what’s the rest?” he asks cautiously when he sees another pot on the stove. Linda starts going through it again with her spoon.

“That’s couscous,” she says. Dean thinks for a moment, remembering the word but unable to put a name on it. What is couscous and has he ever had it before? “It’s like super-small rice,” Linda then clarifies, talking like Dean is a child.

“Oh, okay,” Dean answers. That doesn’t sound too bad. He sits himself down at the table and remains quiet. He wants to say something but so far the only thing that comes into mind is to ask about Kevin and Cas. He doesn’t need her to worry even more than she probably already is.

“No complaining?” the woman asks in surprise. She drops the spoon and turns around completely to lean against the counters. Dean can only shrug in return.

“Don’t feel like it,” he mutters in return. “I should be helping Charlie and Lauren instead of being stuck here.”

Linda raises an eyebrow at him, and crosses her arms in front of her. He knows she doesn’t think highly of him going hunting while in this state, but Dean just wants to prove that he’s not useless. He needs to show the others that he’s still capable of doing the job.

With the risk of killing off a few more humans.

“Okay, I get it,” Dean mutters angrily, barely agreeing that other people might be safer with him inside of these walls. But the longer he stays cooped up in here, the more he comes to realize that the life he’s known is now completely over. There won’t be any more hunting in the future, no more cases.

He’ll be the new Bobby while Sam will continue hunting, probably going with Cas or Lauren if she stays around long enough for that. He’ll be the one to answer the phones and call out excuses for other hunters when paranoid police-agents ring him up. He’ll be the one with his face stuck in a book, doing research on the latest monster of the week.

There won’t be another possibility of him hunting afterwards, either, because he’ll be too dead for that. Gabriel and Anna already told him that they won’t be resurrecting him after he’s died. Of course, he’s gone against it, trying to find a possible explanation as to why they wouldn’t help his family, but the only thing he got in return is that they are forbidden to interfere on God’s orders.

“Dean, you need to think about the good things, too,” the woman in front of him says after a few moments of silence. Dean tries not to look too guilty when he raises his head. “You’ll finally have a family. You have Cas, two little ones, and Sam’s there as well. You’re not alone, and you can finally get what you’ve always wanted.”

Dean nods, mostly because he’s afraid of his reaction when he tries to speak. He’s embarrassed to say that he’s been on the verge of tears most of the time whenever he’s reminded that his life is limited to a few more months.

He guess he’ll be lucky if he’ll be able to see his little ones after the process.

“Have you been thinking of names already?”

The thought leaves Dean’s mind again when Linda speaks. The woman has resumed cooking again, but her eyes are still pointed towards him. Or more specifically, the small bump in his stomach. Dean looks down, too, staring at it. It’s still barely noticeable, but like Cas mentioned it’s bigger than it should have been had he carried only one child.

“We haven’t really thought about that,” Dean confesses. He immediately puts a hand on his stomach, willing to have the two in his mind again. They’re quiet; nothing is really happening right now.

Names. They need to be special, to have a meaning. He wants them named after somebody important to him.

But to call them after his parents just feels strange. He wouldn’t get used to have his little one named after his father. Still, there are variations, right? If they would be boys, he could call them Jonathan and Mark? Or if they’re girls Joanna and Marie. It would not be completely his mother’s name, but there would be that slight difference.

But he could also call them after Bobby. Robert? Is there a female variation for that? Or even after Ellen and Jo; they saved their life once, too. Jonah or Alan; that comes close, right?

“I think Cas and I need to discuss it some more,” Dean concludes. He might come up with some names right now, but as long as the gender is still unknown to him, he can’t do much. It’s best to wait for further tests and see what they’ll do, there.

“Take a name that has a special meaning to you,” Linda confesses. “I named Kevin after a dead cousin of mine.”

Linda turns off the stove and pulls off the pots, pouring the content on two plates and leaving the rest inside, in case Kevin and Cas return home. They take their places at the table after Dean fetches some glasses for them.

The food isn’t that bad. The couscous is pretty tasteless, but when he passes the chicken all over it, he has to admit he can pretty much enjoy the taste. He quietly fills his glass with water and takes a few sips before returning to his dinner. Every moment, both of them seem to expect the door to open and for Cas or Kevin to get back inside, but so far nothing indicates their return.

By the time Dean’s plate is almost empty, Linda starts talking again.

“Are you afraid?”

It’s so straightforward, but Dean still hesitates on his answer. He wouldn’t probably be the one to admit fear like that, but it’s probably written all over his face that he’s nervous about it all. Of course Linda would notice it; she’s a mother and she’s been through it all as well back when she was expecting Kevin.

So there’s no use in lying to her. She might be the only one here that really knows what’s going on with Dean. She’s the only one he can relate to, right now. That’s probably also why she cares so much that Dean is careful about what he does and eats all the time.

“I think I am, yeah,” Dean admits calmly. He keeps his head down when he feels his eyes sting again. _I’m afraid of dying. Afraid of leaving Cas behind with two kids and no idea how to take care of them. I’m afraid I might never be able to hold them in my arms. I’m afraid that they won’t remember me._

The thoughts keep on going through his mind, one fear right after the other. Most of them he didn’t even know he had. But he can’t say them out loud, because that would mean that he would have to tell her about his certain death. Telling Linda means that she will tell the others, which is what he wants to avoid.

“It’s okay to be afraid, Dean,” Linda assures him. She puts her hand on his to give him some sort of comfort, and Dean appreciates it. She might not be that much older than him, but to have somebody taking care of him like that gives him this warm feeling on the inside.

Even when he’s gone, Linda will probably stay here. She will know what to do with the twins when Cas is in over his head.

“Did it hurt a lot?” Dean dares to ask. Linda nods calmly.

“Like you can’t imagine,” she says, confirming one of Dean’s smaller fears. The pain he can probably take, but it would have been a comfort to know he wouldn’t feel anything. That’s wishful thinking, of course. If having one baby hurt like Hell according to Linda, he doesn’t even want to imagine what having two of them will feel like.

“Would you do it all over again? If you would go back to before you got pregnant, and you would know that it would hurt that much, would you still do it?”

Without any hesitation, Linda nods. She looks extremely sure of her answer, as well.

“The pain is worth it. Kevin is the world to me; I can’t imagine a life without him around,” she explains. “The birthing is only temporary, while you can have the rest of your life with your little ones.”

Dean can see the logic in that. It should be enough, right? Of course, in normal circumstances, it would. Right now, things aren’t that easy. Once more his eyes go down to his stomach, and the thought passes him once more that bringing these two will kill him.

And he can’t even be angry at them for it.

“Thanks, Linda,” he hastily adds, remembering that she’s been trying to calm him down a little bit. It isn’t working, not even in the slightest, but it’s at least worth the shot of making her believe it does. He even thinks the smile he gives her looks convincing enough.

There’s no dessert; there never is. It isn’t on his eating-schedule, and since Linda doesn’t stray from it he shouldn’t even expect anything else to be given to him. So he stands up again to start the dishes, because that at least will keep him busy.

If only Cas were here again. He could have at least sent something to let him know everything is alright, but it’s not really that surprising that he hasn’t. Cas just doesn’t understand it, so used to being invincible.

But now he isn’t. He’s vulnerable like every human is, and they wouldn’t know if he’d be able to heal himself if he got severely wounded. Dean would rather not test that out.

“I think I’ll watch some TV-shows,” Linda breathes out as she stands up. “You want to watch anything in particular?”

Dean thinks for a moment, but decides that he’s too agitated to sit still and watch some shows. He just shakes his head and starts to pick up the plates to bring them back to the kitchen. When Linda starts to help him, he stops her. She already cooked for him, the least he can do is do the dishes.

By the time Lauren and Charlie come back, Sam’s right behind them. It’s already past midnight, and Linda has been snapping at him after her second episode of Scandal that he should be going to bed. Dean, in turn, keeps on responding to her that he can’t as long as Cas and Kevin are still out there.

Dean barely sees Lauren and Charlie come in as they immediately turn to the hallway. Dean figures he’ll talk to them later. He needs to see if his brother’s okay, first. So he goes back to him, finding him in the main room, unpacking the weapon’s he’s brought along. He doesn’t look bruised or anything, but his hair does seem wilder than before.

“Before you ask, yes, everything is alright,” Sam mutters out. He doesn’t seem angry, but only tired. That’s good, at least. Dean wouldn’t want to have to worry about his brother being pissed at him for something. He even stayed in the bunker for crying out loud.

“That’s good” Dean gets out. He leans against the table and wraps his arms together in front of him. His eyes never leave his brother as he works, and after a moment Sam looks up with his eyebrows raised.

“Is there a problem?” he asks in confusion. Dean shakes his head and then shrugs.

“Everything’s good,” he answers. It’s a lie. “How was the hunt?”

Now it’s Sam’s turn to shrug. He glances to the side to see if either Charlie or Lauren are nearby. “Charlie got beat up quite a bit, but that’s mostly the result of Lauren’s self-defense. They’re both fine, but Charlie probably just needs some more rest.”

“But she’s herself again?”

Sam nods. “She is,” he answers. Then he picks up the bags with weapons and goes into the hallway, probably on his way to bring them back to the armory. He has no idea where Lauren or Charlie went, but as long as they’re both okay, he shouldn’t worry too much about it.

He moves to his bedroom after a few more minutes of just waiting. Despite his agitation he’s still tired, and just standing there until Cas returns probably isn’t the best idea for him. On his way to his room, he passes absolutely nobody, which makes him wonder where Lauren and Charlie might be. Probably in the bathroom; patching up wounds? Who knows? They might as well be preparing a bedroom for Charlie to stay the night.

He closes the door behind him the moment he gets in. The room seems so empty all of the sudden. There’s no Cas, and the Angel has obviously cleaned it out before he left. There are no clothes scattered around, the books are neatly put back on the shelf, and the trench coat hangs safely inside the closet.

There are a few seconds where Dean just stares at it. After having seen the Angel wear it all those years, it’s weird to think how easy he got out of it and started wearing Dean’s clothes. This coat will always be Cas’s, no matter how many years might pass.

Dean pulls it out of the closet without really thinking about it. His hand touches the fabric, and where he’d expected nothing to happen, instead a slight rush goes through him, emerging from his belly. He closes his eyes when the emotions go through him. It’s the little ones, he realizes, and they’re probably sensing something on the coat. Probably some Grace that Cas left on it? He shouldn’t be littering it around like that.

Without thinking of it, Dean pulls the coat closer to himself, causing the feeling to get even stronger. A warm shudder passes through him, as if Cas is just right beside him. In his mind, he can ‘hear’ the twins call out for the Angel. They want him even closer, to get more of his Grace to themselves.

“I know, guys,” Dean mutters down. “Daddy isn’t there right now, so you’ll have to do with your… well, other daddy.” He can sense the Grace being a little annoyed, and somehow it amuses him. Not even born and they’re already grumpy! Who would have known?

Dean doesn’t hear the knock on the door, so when his name is suddenly called out from behind him, he almost jumps in the air in surprise. With the coat still tucked to his chest, he turns around to find Charlie standing in his room, with the door closed behind him. At first she looked worried, but now there’s a small smile on her face.

“You’re hugging his coat?” she asks in amusement. Dean looks down once more, finding that she’s indeed right. Without any hesitation he pushes the coat back in the closet, not even bothering to put it back on the hanger, and then he faces Charlie again, trying real hard to keep his face calm.

“Is there something you need?” Dean asks, flinching when he hears the hard tone in his voice. It doesn’t seem to bother Charlie, though, since the smile gets only even wider.

“I just came to see if you needed to talk to anybody? You seemed quite… sad?” then comes out, and her upturned lips go back down again. She sits herself down on his bed and pats on the side next to her. Dean hesitates for a moment longer, but then finally takes a step forward, distancing himself even more from the coat – the twins don’t like that, he can feel how displeased they are.

“What makes you say that?” Dean tries. It wouldn’t do anybody good to worry about him.

“It’s the way you stand,” Charlie offers, holding out her hand to point at him. “Your shoulders are hunched forward while normally they don’t. That either means that you’re sad, or you’re just tired. Now I know you’re not tired, or you would just have been extremely annoying.”

“I need to remove those books from the internet,” Dean mutters to himself. The only reason Charlie knows those little facts about him is because of those damn things Chuck wrote.

“Back on the subject, though, I know you don’t really like to talk about things, but how has not telling worked out for you so far in the past?” Charlie tilts her head to the side a little bit, giving him the faintest smile ever possible. It’s probably normal, since her lower lip has a cut. There are a few scrapes above her eyebrow as well, and her eye has a soft blue shade. She obviously got hurt during the hunt.

Without really thinking about it, Dean holds out his hand towards her face, and almost touches her skin. Before he does, though, he pulls his hands back, afraid that he might do something unwanted.

“Damn it, Charlie, you look awful, too,” Dean mutters. He turns his head to the side, unable to keep his gaze to her. He’s not getting out of this talk; that he’s already sure of. “You can’t tell the others about this. I don’t want them to worry.”

Charlie nods silently and shuffles forward a little bit. Dean looks down at his hands on his legs, seeing his fingers tangle together. Then he starts toying with his wedding ring again, turning it around his finger nervously.

“I promise, Dean,” Charlie assures him. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

Dean takes a deep breath. So far, he hasn’t spoken out the words out loud, afraid they might be too final the moment they’re actually out there. It’s like it hasn’t fully sunk in yet, and by telling Charlie, it will probably be real at last.

“I’m not going to survive the birth of the twins. I’m dying,” he confesses after a long silence. It’s better to get it out like that, before he might change his mind again. Blurting it out, though, might not be the best way to for Charlie, since her mouth has only dropped open and she isn’t moving. Like, at all. “I’m dying,” he then repeats.

He doesn’t notice the tear rolling down his cheek until it lands on his hand. He’s actually crying, and can’t stop himself from doing that. When he tries to breathe out, a loud sob comes out instead.

“I’m dying,” comes out once more before he hunches forward to gasp for breath. This is it, it’s final. He’s dying. Charlie knows, it’s no longer just a fact in his mind. She knows he’s going to die. He can’t deny it anymore.

It’s like he can’t breathe all of the sudden. Another sob comes out, tears roll down even more, and he starts shaking his head as he keeps on repeating the words

“I’m dying, I’m dying, I’m dying,” he keeps on whispering, continuing even when Charlie wraps her arms around him in an attempt to calm him down. One hand goes to the back of his head, and she pushes his face against her shoulder. His tears drop down on her shirt.

“Shhh,” Charlie tells him calmly, rocking him gently to calm him down. Dean just can’t help it, he only cries harder than before. “Shhhh,” she repeats. She gently pats him on the back, but nothing helps.

Because it has finally sunk in that he’s going to die. He’ll never be able to hold his kids.

He’ll never be able to see them grow up.

“What’s going on?” suddenly comes out from behind them. Dean and Charlie pull apart instantly, finding Cas finally standing there in the doorway. He doesn’t look betrayed in any way, but the worry is clear on his face.

“Don’t worry, Cas, this is normal during pregnancies,” Charlie lies effortlessly. When she stands up, Cas hurries back towards the bed and wraps Dean in his arms again, allowing the hunter to cry it out against his shoulder.

“Don’t cry, my beloved, I’m back now,” Cas tells him in a whisper. His mouth is next to his ear, but the moment the words come out, Dean pushes him aside. Once again there’s an unpleasant feeling inside of him once he distances himself from Cas.

“Where were you!” he shouts it out through his tears. “Where the _HELL_ were you?”

Cas looks confused for a moment, but there’s also a glimpse of hurt written on his face. He stands there, uneasy, a little further away from Dean, who is by now also standing. Dean can see Charlie slowly escaping the room. Smart move, because Dean has a few things to tell the Angel at this moment, and it won’t be their most pleasant conversation.

“I was looking for Crowley, you know that?” Cas asks. Oh, the way he talks; he’s completely convinced that he’s done nothing wrong.

“And you couldn’t have _called_? Or maybe even texted?” Dean can’t help the loud volume of his voice. The Grace inside of him is unsettled, almost as if it’s feeling threatened. “You go out looking for a man accompanied by what could possibly be the most dangerous witch in the world, and you can’t even bother to take out your phone to let your husband know what’s going on?”

“Dean, I didn’t think-“

“Yeah, that’s true! You didn’t think!” Dean interrupts him. “You never do, Cas, and that’s you problem!” His fingers are itching now. His chest starts to burn. His eyes sting even harder than before. But he just doesn’t care. “You could have been dead for all I know!”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Dean!” Castiel finally shouts back. “I capable enough to protect myself, thank you very much!”

But Cas raising his voice seems to be the final drop, because suddenly Dean’s arms start moving without his consent. He’s burning up from the inside, and there are voices in his mind, yelling loudly at him.

_“Eliminate the threat, protect ourselves,”_ seems to be things that are constantly repeating themselves. Dean wants to stop moving, to keep his hands from reaching towards Cas, but he can already see the light emerging from his palms, and he’s going to be too late. He’s going to kill his husband while controlled by his own kids, and isn’t that just ironic?

“STOP!” Castiel shouts, voice obviously directed to the Grace, and not Dean. The hunter’s arm lowers a little bit, and that’s enough for Castiel to jump aside, turning Dean around harshly and then wrapping his arms around him. Dean’s hands are now stuck close to his body, and Cas is press tightly against his back.

 

 

“ _Let us go!”_ the Grace shouts through Dean’s mouth, but the voice doesn’t even remotely sound human.

“No!” Castiel chastises the Grace with a stern voice. Dean feels it flinch inside of him. “You should know better. We don’t just kill around, we’re supposed to control our anger, no matter how strong we are.”

Slowly, Dean can move his fingers again, though that’s about it. His breath is still heavy, and his chest still feels uneasy as the Grace squirms inside of him, but he can feel how it starts listening to its father. He knows they recognize themselves inside of Cas, since it’s _his_ Grace they’ve emerged from in the first place.

“Now bring me back your father,” Castiel whispers harshly in his ear, and the corners of Dean’s lips go down. “Come back to me, my beloved.”

And with that, Dean can feel the control return in his limbs. The faint feeling inside of him goes back to his belly where it’s always been before, and slowly but surely, his heart lowers its beating. Meanwhile, Castiel is rocking him around again in another attempt to calm him down.

Dean can’t stop the tears rolling down his face anymore. He’s loudly sobbing once it’s finally just him again. He hunches forward as much as he can while the shock passes over him. He almost killed Cas because of a stupid fight. _His kids_ almost killed Cas due to a stupid fight.

“I’m sorry!” Dean cries out through his tears and sobs. It sounds pathetic, but that’s pretty much how he feels right now. Cas’s grip around him tightens. “I’m so sorry!”

“Shhh, everything’s good now,” Cas tries to assure him, but it isn’t working. Cas shouldn’t even be around him right now, just in case Dean might start to go smiting again. “We’re both safe, there’s no danger. It’s just the four of us and nobody’s getting hurt.”

Of course Cas is talking to the twins as well. Dean knows they understand what the Angel is saying, because they slowly calm down inside of him as well.

Dean manages to turn around when Cas’s arms loosen a bit, and he instantly presses his face against his shoulder, sobbing against the leather of his black jacket. The hands on his shoulders start rubbing his skin.

“We’re fine, I forgive you,” Castiel answers. After that, nothing more is said. All they do is stand there some more, and after Dean’s finally calmed down enough again, they both move to the bed, falling asleep instantly.

They don’t even wake up when Charlie and Sam peek inside the room to see how it’s going.

 

* * *

 

 

_Men of Letters HQ, the next day_

 

When Sam sits down at the breakfast table, he finds Castiel already sitting there with heavy bags under his eyes. He looks exhausted to say the least. There’s a full cup of coffee in front of him, but since it hasn’t even been touched Sam concludes that the Angel is too tired to even lift the damn thing up.

“Hey,” Sam greets him carefully. He remembers last night quite well. Charlie had gone to Dean’s room to chat a little bit with him, and about half an hour later Cas and Kevin finally returned, sadly only bringing the news that they hadn’t found Crowley or Rowena, meaning that they’re probably too far away now for them to track.

“Hello, Sam,” Castiel greets with a heavy voice, instantly gasping for breath after speaking. The dude’s obviously not okay.

“What’s wrong?” he asks worriedly, sitting himself down next to Cas at the table. The Angel looks up and manages a faint smile towards the hunter.

“I’m fine, I just used a bit too much of my Grace last night and it’s wearing me down,” the Angel explains almost in a whisper. “Dean and I had a fight. The twins didn’t like it.”

“He attacked you?!” Sam almost shouts out. Castiel flinches at the loudness of his voice. “You should have called for us!”

Cas shakes his head. “That would only have threatened him more. I managed well enough by myself.”

Sam stays quiet after that. He can’t go against the Angel, since the guy would know these things better. The Grace listens to him since it’s a part of him. Sam shouting at Dean would only rile them up more. Finally, the hunter nods, agreeing that he _did_ make the right call.

“How is he?” he dares to ask, though he’s not sure he wants to know the answer to that question. Castiel simply shrugs, face looking miserable all of the sudden.

“He was already crying when I got in yesterday – Charlie says that’s normal when he’s pregnant – but when I tried to comfort him, he suddenly started yelling at me.”

“What did he yell to you about?”

Castiel just shakes his head, like he still can’t really comprehend. “He was angry I didn’t call or text, said that I never think and all that…” His head goes back down, and his hands go to his forehead, rubbing away what seems like a headache.

“Well, you should have let him known how you were,” Sam offers. He can’t help but agree with Dean on that part. Of course the Angel never had to let them know how he was, before, but now he’s human, and things might happen to him.

“Yes, I realize that, now,” the Angel adds miserably. “After that we started yelling at each other, and before I know it he raises his hand and his eyes are glowing. I stopped him before he managed to kill me.”

“He would have never forgiven himself if you would have gotten hurt,” Sam mumbles bitterly. During all that happened, they actually managed to forget why they wanted the kids gone in the first place; they might be dangerous.  “He can’t lose control like that, again.”

Cas nods faintly. “At least the twins stopped when I told them to. I made clear to them that they can’t just kill people, but who knows if they’ll even remember it.” Another sigh escapes his lips.  He rests his head on his fingers, then, throwing Sam a long look.

Suddenly, he’s frowning, which isn’t really that unusual. Still, Sam feels another wave of worry pass through him. What’s wrong with the Angel? Is there something on his face? On his clothes?

“Sam, you have a hickey in your neck,” Cas then states dryly. He raises his eyebrow at the hunter in front of him, and suddenly the corners of his lips are going up in a slight smile. Sam, in turn, lowers his head. It doesn’t allow him to see his neck in the first place, but it’s just a reflex. His hand travels to his throat right away, and his face reddens.

“Damnit,” he mutters silently. A small chuckle escapes from Cas.

“I can only assume that it’s Lauren?” he asks, completely interested in the matter. Sam doesn’t really feel like lying about it. He simply shrugs in defeat.

“Yeah, it was bound to happen sooner or later,” he admits, thinking back of those months they’ve danced around each other, avoiding one another because they ‘couldn’t stand each other’. Sam drops his head on the table and groans loudly.

“You deserve to be happy, too, Sam,” Castiel tells him. He puts a hand on the hunter’s shoulder, and then he stands up. “I’m going to check on Dean, see if he’s doing alright.”

Sam simply nods, but he doesn’t look up. He can hear Cas walk away, his footsteps getting softer the further he gets. Once he’s sure he’s completely alone, he looks up again, passing his hand over his face to push his hair aside.

Even right now he just wishes he could go back to that night at the motel. Is it weird to say he’s already craving her touch? Only one night together and he’s already addicted to her. That can’t be healthy, right?

But that night had just been so good. True to her word, Lauren had taken all the control – not that Sam minds, of course. It was fantastic, for once, to just lay there and let it all happen. Lauren may be bossy, but she’s good at what she does. And certainly the way she-

Sam gets pulled out of his thoughts when his cellphone suddenly goes off in his pocket. The vibration is strong against his leg, and given his recent train of thoughts, it might be better to just pull the device out right away before it gets awkward.

“Hello?” Sam asks, not bothering to say his name. It’s not like many people have his number.

“ _Yeah, Sam, it’s Richard here,”_ the voice on the other line says. Sam immediately remembers the guy. It’s the one who has also been chasing Lauren’s group of Vampires. If he calls, it could only mean two things. Sam doesn’t know which one he fears most.

“Yeah, hey Richard. How’s it going?” Sam leans forward on the table a little bit, rubbing in his eyes.

“ _’m good, man, everythin’s good. But I called ‘bout yer group of vamps you were after?”_ Yup, here it goes. Sam nods, even though the guy can’t see it.

“Yeah, anything good?” he asks.

“ _Yeah, got ‘em all. Was a real bitch, may I add. Almost lost one of our guys. But them vamps’ll be no more trouble now.”_

Damnit, Sam thinks before he knows it.

“Wow, that’s great news!” _no it isn’t._ “Thanks, Richard, really!”

There’s a short silence on the other side, then there’s a sound that could be identified as the man dropping the phone. In the background, Sam can hear a soft ‘ _shit’_ before there’s more cracking.

“Richard?” he asks in worry. Please don’t say the guy’s dead. He’s done so much for them, it wouldn’t be right for him to die.

“ _Yeah, sorry, Tal’s tending to my wounds and I dropped the phone because that_ bitch _doesn’t know what gentle means.”_

In the background there’s another sound, this time a woman’s voice. “ _Who you callin’ a bitch, asshole?”_

Sam can’t help but smile, remembering Tal quite well from a hunt they did together once. She reminds him a little bit of Jo, having the same attitude as the girl. He wonders how those two got together.

“ _Anyway, hanging up now. Good luck and say hi to Dean from me, okay?”_

Sam nods again. “Okay,” he agrees right before hearing a click, quickly followed by a long beep. Then the hunter drops down the phone, passing his hand through his hair again.

He knows what this will mean to Lauren since she said so herself two nights ago; now that the vamps are gone, she’s going back to her old life, picking up her job and finding herself a new house. To keep it short, she’s going to leave them.

No, not now. Not when they’re barely together. Sam’s had to say goodbye to too many girlfriends in the past, and he can’t do that with Lauren just yet. He can’t.

But what else is he supposed to do? Lie to her? Keep it a secret that Richard killed them all? Pretend that they’re still out there? That’s just wrong on so many levels and he knows that. And even if he keeps it a secret, how long until it comes out anyway? It’s not like hiding things has worked out for them in the past.

“Good morning, handsome,” suddenly comes out behind him, and then there are arms wrapped around him and soft lips on his cheek. “You seem tired, maybe you should better get back to bed?”

“No, I’m fine,” Sam says gently. He turns his face around to look at her, finding her brown eyes immediately. She’s smiling at him, making his heart melt again. But the longer he’s just staring at her, the more worried she gets.

“Sam, you okay?” she asks. She pulls his chair back a little bit and sits herself down on his lap, arms still around his neck. The hunter bites his lip for a moment. He should tell her, he should tell her right now;

But then he looks her in the eyes again, and another wave of affection passes through him, and instead of telling her the good news, he keeps it quiet.

“Yes, I’m completely fine.”

 

* * *

_Meanwhile, at an unknown location._

He can’t help it. Even after all those years, she’s still acting nice to him, and he just knows that’s all it is; an act.

She doesn’t care about him; she never has. He’s had a bad enough childhood to know that Rowena is a manipulative woman that always manages to get what she wants by acting innocent. But despite that, despite knowing what she is, she’s still his mother and he can’t just leave her like that.

Had Crowley still been a demon, he’s sure he would have locked her up in a dungeon far, far away. Or maybe he would just have killed her? Was it a mistake not to let the brothers finish her off? It felt wrong at the time, and it still doesn’t feel right now, either.

“Why have you brought me here?” Crowley asks once he takes in the abandoned living room of the house they’ve broke in to. Nobody lives here, but they shouldn’t draw too much attention, anyway. It wouldn’t do good to have the police coming here.

“You know why, Fergus-“

“Crowley,” he corrects her. Rowena, with her hands held high and fingers pressed together in that graceful way she always does. The woman stares at him for a long moment, face not revealing anything.

“Fergus,” she then repeats. She walks towards him, puts her hands on his cheeks, and kisses him on the forehead. “You’re my son. What mother wouldn’t take her boy along with her?”

“You wouldn’t,” Crowley snaps. “And it’s Crowley.”

Rowena shakes her head and clicks her tongue a few times.

“Come on, Fergus. We’ve had so many good conversations back when I was locked up. Now that I’m free you suddenly distrust me?” She crosses her arms and feigns a saddened look.

“I _never_ trusted you,” Crowley mutters back. Even after all those weeks of telling her his name’s Crowley now, she still refuses to call him that. “But you said you had something good to offer me. Out with it, what is it?”

Rowena’s smile gets wider than before, and she puts her hands on her hips again.

“I know a way to open Hell again, my little king.”


	21. It’s also the name of a Prophet that was swallowed by a fish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been writing this chapter since October! I remember how silly I thought it was, writing a chapter about Christmas while Halloween hadn't even passed! Now we're past Valentine's Day, and the chapter still wasn't finished!  
> But I figured it's been way too long since there has been an update, so I decided to split the chapter, adding what I didn't write here into the next chapter instead!  
> I'm sorry for taking so long. I don't have any excuse other than that writing took me extremely long. I re-wrote the Christmas dinner twice, and then didn't know where to go with the 'about a boy' episode, despite preparing for this one since the episode came out!  
> anyways, hope you guys enjoy it!

_Lebanon, Kansas  
December 24 th 2014_

 

Dean Winchester is standing outside with his arms wrapped around himself, watching the clouds of warm air escaping his mouth as he breathes it out into the cold. He’s wearing a warm, thick, brown jacket that doesn’t allow in any cold and his hands are safely tucked into warm black mittens, fingers tightly pressed together to keep the heat inside.

He’s sitting on the remnants of a chopped off tree, watching how his brother and husband are both walking around to look at the trees around them. The longer he sits still, the more frozen his ass starts to get.

“C’mon guys! All the trees look good, just pick one and let’s go!” Dean mutters out, trying to ignore the cold snowflakes that drop against his skin. A shiver passes through him, and he quickly shakes his head to get the wayward flakes out of his hair. When another one lands on his nose, he actually sneezes.

“But the trees don’t feel right,” Sam answers as he passes another tree with his finger stuck on his chin, which he always does while he’s thinking. He’s been inspecting every damn one, but apparently so far none of them have caught his interest.

“It’s just a tree! We’ll decorate them back at home, anyway. You’ll barely even see it anymore!” Dean complains once more. That moment, Cas comes to stand behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder and pressing his lips in his hair.

“Be patient, Dean. After we forgot Christmas last year, we need to make something great out of it this time around,” the Angel tells him calmly. Dean just sighs loudly again, leaning his head back until it rests against Cas’ belly.

He’s right, though. They had actually, literally, forgotten Christmas last year, having been stuck in the bunker for all that time that it actually just happened. It was around New Year that they realized they’d been cooped up inside for far too long. So that’s why Linda has insisted on making it a celebration this year.

They’ve actually invited Jodie and Alex, and even Donna is going to join them. Charlie’s already in the bunker, not having left since after the incident with dark Charlie. Garth and his wife are coming – though they had a long discussion about inviting a bunch of werewolves. Cas even extended an invitation to Claire, but so far there hasn’t been an answer and by now they’re not expecting one, anyway.

“Back in Cicero, Ben and I spent about three hours searching for a tree,” Dean recalls, unable to hold back a small smile. “Kid was just as picky as Sam is now. It almost drove me nuts!”

Cas stays quiet for a moment. Dean know the Angel feels kind of uncomfortable to talk about his time in Cicero, back when he lived with the kid and Lisa. Back when Cas was still in Heaven for the whole damn year. Instead of any words coming out, another kiss is given on his forehead this time, and then Cas pulls back.

“I’ll look around some more,” he says to him after disappearing behind a few more trees. Dean just sighs and shakes his head in defeat, staring up at the white sky above him. There are more and more snowflakes dropping down, so they need to hurry up before Dean gets soaked completely.

He’s just so tired of everything. He and Cas haven’t been talking a lot lately. Mostly they just spend their days doing their things, and then they go to bed together, staring each other in the eyes for a long moment before both of them turn their heads away again.

They’ve had sex since Dean turned out pregnant, alright. It’s been sweet, and slow, and extremely… boring. Dean feels horrible about thinking that way, but it’s true that he always has to try his best to stay awake while they’re at it.

And it’s not that Cas is bad at it; of course he isn’t. It’s more like… Dean has been faking orgasms just for the sake of sleeping. And how do you even mention something like that to your husband? You don’t, right? Or is it actually something they need to discuss?

No matter how much they pretend, things aren’t alright between them. They haven’t been since Dean got turned into a woman and both of them are just too stubborn to confront their problems and solve them. Dean doesn’t do talking, and Cas just… doesn’t understand it most of the times.

It’s not like there are no more touches or anything; they touch almost all the time. There are small kisses on the cheeks or lips, lingering hands on shoulders, and the occasional hug once in a while. But compared to the affection they used to show each other, things seem to be less heated.

They stay in the woods for another hour before Sam finally decides which tree is the best, and by then it’s already three in the afternoon. Even though Dean hates it, he can’t go home yet without having at least a few presents for their guests, so while Sam takes the tree back home, he and Cas are dropped at the town where multiple people are busy with last-minute shopping. Somewhere further away there’s a Santa Clause ringing a bell and giving hugs to happy children that run up to him.

Creep, Dean thinks. There’s no way he would allow his kids to do that.

He thinks…

“I don’t really understand how Santa ever really got so popular during Christmas,” Dean mutters bitterly with his arms once more wrapped around himself to keep warm. Next to him, Cas chuckles quietly. He pulls away one of Dean’s arms to take his hand and then raises it – glove and all – to his lips to give it a gentle kiss.

“I can tell you the story, but I’m sure you wouldn’t want to hear it,” he offers. Dean stares at him for a long moment, wondering if the Angel is joking or not. The smile on his face looks genuine, but his voice sounds tired. Should he refuse? Or should he listen?

“Nah, ‘m not really _that_ interested, babe. But thanks anyway,” he then decides, giving him a soft kiss on the lips before moving forward again. “C’mon, we need presents before the stores close down.”

They move from store to store, having trouble with deciding what to buy for who. The easiest so far has been Alex, since Jody passed along over the phone that the girl wants nothing more than a portable mp3-player. They lingered on the cheap ones for a few minutes before deciding that they shouldn’t buy her crap and they actually went for a small iPod.

They get Donna and Jody a trip to a day spa, and for Garth and his wife they got crib after hearing that Bessy is expecting her first child as well. Cas wants to get something for Claire, even if she wouldn’t come by, so they get her an iPod as well – though that’s about the last thing they’ll buy since they’ve spent quite a lot of money right now.

They call Sam up when they’re finished, needing the younger hunter to pick them up again since he left with the car. While they wait, the pair goes to a coffee shop to get some drinks – though Dean is forced to stick with hot chocolate instead of coffee. In anyway, it warms him up, so he’s not really complaining. Linda wouldn’t even allow him to have the chocolate, so he’s extremely glad that Cas didn’t stop him when ordering.

By the time they’re finally home again, they find Lauren already busy putting up some decoration in the tree with Kevin handing her everything she needs. It’s quite a sight, and especially when the woman hands Sam the star for the top of the tree – they didn’t buy an Angel out of respect for Cas – and tells him to put it up.

Dean feels like he should turn his face away when he sees his brother put his hands on Lauren’s hips and kiss her on her cheek, but somehow he can’t. It’s too good a sight to see his brother like this; happy and in love (with somebody that _isn’t_ a demon or a werewolf, that is).

When Dean turns around he finds Cas equally staring, though his face seems sad upon watching them. Immediately, Dean pushes himself off the table he’s leaning against and moves towards his husband, surprising him when he wraps his arms around him and hides his lips in the guy’s neck.

“This is strangely domestic,” Dean tells him in a whisper. It’s kind of an awkward position since Cas is taller than him now, but neither of them seems to mind. The Angel just drops his head back and leans in to his touch.

“I feel quite content, to be honest,” he admits with a low voice.

“Uh-huh,” Dean mutters. “That’s why you were looking all gloomy while looking at my brother and his girlfriend.”

Castiel’s head turns to the side in obvious embarrassment.

“So you caught that?” he whispers. Gently he pulls himself out of Dean’s hold, though not letting go of his hand. With a nod he motions for them to go to the other room, meaning that he obviously wants a talk. Dean can live with that – talking with Cas is always different in comparison to talking with Sam. He wouldn’t start something like that on his own, but if it comes from Cas he can’t really refuse.  

In silence they start moving. When Sam notices it, Dean just waves at him, motioning that he’ll be right back. The younger hunter is quickly distracted again, though, when Lauren turns her head around to ask him a question with her back still pressed against his chest. Dean doesn’t hear what she has to ask, but neither is it really his business.

His hand is still safely in Cas’ when they reach the kitchen. There’s no-one inside, which is good. Just like Dean and Cas earlier, Kevin and Linda are in town doing some last-minute shopping, meaning that they won’t come in just like that and disturb their conversation.

Dean thinks at first that they will sit down at the table, but when Cas instead goes for the coffee-machine, fills himself a cup, and then leans against the counter, Dean decides not to sit down as well. He leans against the table, crossing his arms while he contemplates the distance between him and Cas.

Is there something bad going to be discussed here?

“I’ve been thinking about us, together,” Cas asks after taking a long sip from his mug. “In bed, about the fact that I can’t seem to pleasure you anymore,” he adds quickly to make his point. That’s just so typically him; he just asks the questions without building up to it. Had Dean been drinking anything, he would have just spit it out in the Angel’s face.

“Seriously, _that’s_ what this is about?” the hunter asks, crossing his arms even harder. He’s already self-conscious about it all since becoming a woman, and now he has to find out that Cas knew all along? He’d have preferred if they would just never have mentioned it. “Babe, if you worry about me no longer wanting you, it’s seriously not that.”

“Then what is it about?” Cas wonders with his voice cracking slightly. Dean turns his face away, trying to find any reason within himself that might be an explanation about the unsatisfying sex they’ve been having. He tries to think back of that one night once more, trying to remember if he actually enjoyed it back then – but once again to no avail.

“It doesn’t feel… the same way as before,” Dean tries to explain with a grimace. “It’s probably because I’m a chick, but I’m not really sure I like the feeling of-“

“Being penetrated?” Cas deadpans.

“Jesus, Cas, stop being so blunt about things!” Dean hisses back. Cas just shakes his head but doesn’t respond. “I think it’s more about the fact that it’s… I’m not supposed to have that… you know?” He realizes he isn’t making any sense. It would be a miracle if Cas would ever understand him.

“You would rather try anal penetration then?” Cas asks, apparently catching his drift. Kind of. Dean feels his face heat up when his Angel speaks out the words.

“Dude, just stop it,” Dean mutters. “Listen, no, the last time we tried that I banished you to Heaven-“

“So you don’t _want_ to be pene-“

“Don’t you say it!” Dean hisses with his finger pointed at him. Cas stops his sentence, looks down, and then sighs.

“So you don’t want to do anything until you’re a man again? And after that we’ll be doing it the way we’ve always been doing it before?” he now finally says without being too explicit about everything. Dean once more turns his face away, pushing himself from the table and resting his hands in his hair while he thinks. Does it sound like Cas _doesn’t want_ to go back to the way they did it before?

“No, I don’t know, Cas,” Dean mutters out. “If you want to have sex, I can understand and I’ll gladly do it for you because in the end I’m still slightly stimulated as well, but the initiative just won’t come from me,” he offers. It’s the best he can do, so far, but he can’t help but feel like he’s betraying Cas in some way.

“I can’t have sex with you if you don’t feel pleasure in it, Dean,” Cas almost whispers after a long moment of silence. He keeps his head down and his hands go to the pocket of his pants. His right foot starts kicking the ground for a moment. “And we both know why that is.”

“Why?” Dean asks for clarification. Apparently Cas has made his own conclusions. When he looks up again, his eyes seem red from upcoming tears. He takes a long breath, biting his lips when he exhales again.

“I can’t connect with your soul,” he finally explains. “It has always been the best part of our intercourse, Dean, and now I can no longer do it.”

Dean already starts to shake his head, to tell him he’s wrong. Cas just holds up his hand to shut him up, so Dean does.

“I love you, Dean,” Cas continues calmly. “And I know you love me, too. But we need to face the truth here.”

“Which is?” Dean asks bitterly with his arms crossed again.

“That we are not alright at the moment,” the Angel clarifies. “We haven’t been since after our honeymoon, and as long as you’re not back to your old self, I don’t think we can really get to the way we were before.”

Somehow, these words come on hard. It kind of feels like Cas is giving up on them, like he just doesn’t want to make the effort of making things up. Dean feels his heart break in tiny little bits, almost wondering if he’s going to suggest they take some time apart. He doesn’t want to think of what Cas might mean with this conversation.

“So you want to take a break, is that it?” Dean asks in a mutter, unable to catch Cas’ eyes. His heart is beating faster than normally. He needs to make sure he’s not getting too agitated before the twins take over again.

“I would never do that,” Cas corrects him. He finally takes a step forward and puts his hands on Dean’s cheeks. “I love you so much, Dean, that breaking it off in any way is just too unimaginable.”

Dean feels a tear roll down his cheeks and he blames his hormones for the sudden need of crying. This is it, this is the moment he should tell Cas the words. Those three words he wants to hear for so long. He, too, puts his hands on the Angel’s cheeks to hold him steady, and their eyes never lose contact for one second.

“But you’re not comfortable in your current body, meaning that you don’t enjoy our touches the same way you did before mainly because you’re so worried about whether or not I still like you in your current state.” Cas leans forward to kiss him softly on the forehead. “And no matter how much I’ll tell you that you’re still the same to me, you won’t be the same to yourself.”

For a moment all Dean manages to do is just look him in the eyes with a worried expression. The fingers on his Angel’s cheeks are probably holding on too tightly, though Cas doesn’t seem to react to that, meaning that it doesn’t bother him at all. Then, a sigh escapes from Dean’s mouth. He releases Cas’ face, drops his hands to his shoulders, and then pushes his forehead to his chest. Cas lets go of his hold on Dean’s face and in turn puts his hands on Dean’s hips.

“So, what do we do now, then?” Dean asks against the fabric of his shirt. He feels Cas’ chest go up as he breathes.

“We just do the best we can,” Cas responds calmly. “We stay together and we’ll work it out.”

 

* * *

 

 

_The next day_

 

Jody, Donna and Alex are the first that arrive.

Linda has barely begun with the cooking of the food, and both Sam and Lauren are deep in the middle of decorating the main room of the bunker when they knock on the door, so it’s Dean that goes to let them in, earning him a long greeting hug from Jody, a more awkward embrace from Donna, and a wave from Alex. After that, they enter the bunker, taking in the place for the first time ever.

“Whoa, they spared no expenses,” Donna mutters, causing Dean to smile gently. The four of them go down the stairs again, only for the guests to be greeted by Sam and Lauren, who are currently busy hanging up some golden-colored slings.

“Dean, I can’t really figure out these socks; what’s their purpose?” Cas suddenly asks, coming from the hallway with a few bright colored stockings in his hand. There’s one for each of them, handmade by Linda. The ones currently in the Angel’s hands seem to be his own and Kevin’s.

“You hang them up, babe,” Dean explains, nodding once towards the others and quickly getting back to Cas, who is trying to compare one sock with the other. When Dean takes them from him, he finally looks up again with his mouth fallen open.

“These human traditions are really extremely fascinating; there’s just no logical explanation!” Cas mutters out in wonder. Dean throws him a soft smile and then he puts his hand on his back to guide him back towards the hallway.

“Hello, Castiel!” Jody calls out before they’re out of the room.

“Oh, hello Jody Mills! It’s good you’ve arrived safely! Now Dean and I are going to hang the socks!” Cas shouts in return, earning him some giggles back in the main room. Dean, too, can’t hold back a soft laugh, and all it makes Cas do is stare at him in confusion, about ready to ask his question.

“You’re such a little dork,” Dean mutters to him before stealing a short kiss. Then he goes to the box, takes out all the stockings Linda made, and returns to the main room with the intention of hanging them up at the fireplace.

Oh, wait, they don’t have a fire place.

Right.

“Just hang them on the bookcases,” Dean offers as a solution. Cas nods, putting most of the socks back on the table and picking up two with the names _Alex_ and _Kevin_ written on them. He hands them to Dean, who is busy taking out pins that will hold them up.

By the time all the socks are hung up there’s another knock on the door. This time it’s Cas who is making his way upstairs, welcoming Garth and his wife inside with a greeting handshake and a short introduction of who he is. Garth hugs him in return – typically him – and then he and his wife move down to greet the others as well.

When Dean sees the two werewolves walking towards him, a big smile appears on his face, especially when he sees how large Bessy’s belly has become. It’s almost surreal, the idea that Garth will become a father.

“Hey Garth,” Dean greets him, receiving a hug as well. Once again, all Bessy does is shake his hand, but he takes no offence. He doesn’t know Garth’s wife well enough to receive the same greeting. That, and Dean kind of killed her mother-figure after she tried to kill him.

“Well I can’t believe my eyes!” Garth calls out enthusiastically. “Dean Winchester is a woman! Who would have thought?”

Next to them, Sam and Lauren start laughing, and Kevin, too, is to be heard from the kitchen. Cas comes to stand next to him, putting his hand on the hunter’s shoulder protectively.

“It’s only temporary, until after the twins are born,” Castiel explains. Dean lowers his head in frustration, having forgotten to tell the Angel that the news about the Nephilim was supposed to stay a secret for now.

“You’re expecting?!” Garth almost shouts, but he doesn’t seem disgusted in any way, instead putting his hand on Bessy’s belly affectionately. “I can’t believe it, our kids will be the same age! They could hang out together!”

Dean keeps in a sigh at the idea that Garth’s kid would be able to play with the twins, and he himself couldn’t. Out of habit, Dean puts his hand on his belly. His eyes meet Bessy’s for a moment. All she does is nod at him, out of respect, probably.

“Now I swear I wouldn’t have been able to see it because you wearing all those loose clothing! Is your belly showing, yet?” Garth asks without really thinking about it. Bessy puts her hand on his arm to make him stop talking, but she seems to be failing. It doesn’t matter, it’s not like Dean really minds; they already know, it’s not like he has to keep hiding it now.

So Dean gently lifts up his shirt right above his belly, showing how rounded it is. It’s about two months now, a little more than seven weeks, to be exact. He’s read enough to know that it’s normal that he’s a bit larger than a woman with only one baby would be.

“Whoa, it’s twins alright,” Garth mutters out to Bessy. “Bess was about ten weeks when her belly was like that. Though at first it could be mistaken with having gained a bit of weight, right?”

Dean just shrugs, releasing his shirt again to cover himself up. Then he leans up against Cas behind him, pressing his head on the Angel’s shoulder.

“Yeah, well, they’ve been ruining my eating pattern for good. I can’t stand meat at the moment, makes me want to puke all the time,” Dean complains. The face coming from Garth and his wife looks horrified, but of course, they don’t eat anything else other than meat.

Eventually, Charlie arrives again from where-ever she was in the bunker, and right then the introductions start again. While they’re all trying to learn each other’s name, Dean catches how Cas is still secretly watching the door, obviously still expecting Claire to arrive.

Dean silently grabs his hand while the others keep on talking. His eyes are staring deeply into Cas’, and Dean manages a faint smile towards his husband. He can’t promise that Claire will make an appearance; she hates them enough to just refuse the invitation she’s gotten through text from Cas.

Still, Dean knows there’s hope inside Castiel; hope that maybe she wouldn’t hate him all _that_ much. Hope that she might give him a chance, at least try to get to know him.

Eventually, Linda and Kevin, too, emerge from the kitchen – Dean wisely stays away from there because of the meat cooking – and they all move to take place in the common room. They don’t really have place for twelve people in there, so they pulled along a few of the chairs from the main room – where they plan to eat the dinner Linda is preparing.

Lauren is seated on Sam’s lap, but it isn’t all that awkward as Dean imagined it would have been had he and Cas done the same. If he would have been his old self, he would even have suggested for Cas to come and do the same. Now, the married pair are seated next to each other on the double couch, with Charlie sitting on the armrest, leaning her elbow on Dean’s shoulder. Jody, Donna and Bessy are in the other couch, while Garth, Linda, Alex and Kevin are seated on one of the brought chairs

They talk about lots of things, starting with how things are going at school with Alex. She seems shy enough, and it’s obvious that she’d have preferred if Claire would have been there just to have someone her age nearby, but in the end she does manage to say her story.

“I think about going for medicine,” she answers finally when Linda asks about what she’s planning to do when she’s older. At that, she does receive some impressed looks, and Jody seems especially proud from the couch. Donna even slaps her gently on her shoulder to congratulate her.

“Wow, that’s quite a big deal!” Sam blurts out in disbelief. There’s a slight blush on the teenager’s face, and Dean catches how her eyes move towards Cas sitting next to him, making her cheeks even redder than before.

“I figure I helped killing so many people, at least that way I can try and save many more,” Alex mutters out. She then lowers her gaze again. Dean takes Castiel’s hand in his own, resting them on his lap while toying with the wedding band once more; it’s something he does quite a lot, actually.

“I think it’s great that you want to fix your mistakes,” Cas tells her gently. Dean can’t take his eyes off the Angel, wondering if Cas felt the same way back in Purgatory, when he was planning on staying there to pay for his wrongs. He probably wouldn’t have, right? Otherwise he would have joined Dean out of there when they had the chance?

“How ‘bout you, Cas and Dean? What are your plans for the future?” Donna asks suddenly once it’s clear that Alex has had enough attention on her own for the moment. Dean looks up, finding everybody looking at the two of them. Dean is torn between letting the Angel’s hand go or just gripping it more tightly in a small wave of panic.

“What do you mean?” Dean almost squeaks out with a high pitched voice. How is he going to talk himself out of this? He and Cas never talked about it before, mostly because Dean avoided the subject, knowing fully well that there’s no future for him to begin with.

“You know, you two are married, have two little ones on the way,” Jody starts saying, pointing at Dean’s stomach. Cas automatically puts a protective hand on it to shield it away. “There’s no way you guys are possibly thinking about hunting when you have a family, right?”

Dean does his best to avoid looking at Cas. He doesn’t want to have the Angel see this panic in his eyes – because Cas would notice right away. Instead he looks down, takes a deep breath, and contemplates his next words.

But before he can talk, Cas beats him to it.

“We haven’t even thought about possible names, yet,” he says, sounding a little bit ashamed about that fact. It’s then that Dean looks up, remembering how, yes, he did think about names a while back. He just forgot to tell Cas about them.

“Actually, I’ve been brainstorming about names,” Dean admits shyly. Cas turns to look at him with wide eyes, but Dean can’t tell if he’s surprised or betrayed. It’s probably the latter, but Dean goes for the first, just to make himself feel better.

“Tell us!” Linda suddenly shouts. She seems rather angry that he hasn’t brought it up, sooner. Dean just shrugs, because it’s not that big a deal.

“I don’t know, maybe Jonathan, Mark, Johanna, Marie,” Dean sums up, remembering his idea to name them after his parents. But then the other names come back to mind. “Robert, Jonah, Alan…”

“Why these names?” Jody asks in confusion, but there’s a look of understanding on both Cas and Sam’s face.

“You’re thinking about naming them after our parents, or Bobby, or Ellen and Jo, aren’t you?” the younger hunter asks quietly. Dean once again just shrugs, squeezing Cas’ fingers one shortly.

“It’s just, you know, a first few idea’s, nothing too serious there,” Dean adds quickly, hoping that Cas wouldn’t be too mad about it. They just passed through his mind once, so it’s not like he’s actually considering these names in the first place.

“I like Jonah and Alan,” Cas suddenly says. “Jonah means ‘dove’, which, as you know, is considered an animal of Peace.”

That doesn’t sound too bad now, does it? Dean throws Cas a small smile before reaching for his glass on the table, needing something to clean his throat with.

“It’s also the name of a Prophet that was swallowed by a fish,” Cas adds all of the sudden, and the water that Dean had tried to swallow comes back out, sadly, some of it through his nose. Charlie feels the impact the most, getting almost literally soaked while Dean is coughing it out.

“Dean are you okay?” Cas asks worriedly. Dean holds up his hand to gesture to him that he’s fine, not needing his Angel to worry about him. Charlie just sighs and starts shaking the water off.

“What about-“ Dean starts, then once more gasping for breath, he stops his sentence. Charlie slaps him against his back a few times before he can manage to continue. “What about Alan?”

Cas just looks at him for a moment, probably just to make sure that he’s alright. When the hunter has finally stopped coughing all the time, the Angel takes a deep breath.

“The meaning of Alan is uncertain. It varies from _deer_ to _little rock_. Some say it also means _beautiful_. It depends on the culture you ask, of course,” the Angel finally answers. Then he takes Dean’s hand in his own and pulls it towards his mouth. “These names are beautiful, but we’re not sure about the genders yet?”

Dean scrapes his throat for one last time, but this time more out of embarrassment. This really isn’t something they should be discussing where the others are.

“I don’t know, Cas,” Dean stutters out. “Jolene, Joëlle, Joanna, Elaine, Helen, there’s tons of choices. Maybe we should discuss this another time, okay babe?”

He pointedly looks at Cas, hopeful that he will understand that the conversation really needs to stop now. The others are probably getting bored already, because it’s not all that interesting.

“Maybe Dean’s right,” Sam adds in a whisper. Cas faces him with a questioning look, sighs, and then nods.

“Of course, we should discuss this privately,” he admits. Then he obviously forces a smile on his face, turning to look at Jody all of the sudden. “Mrs. Mills, do you know a lot about teenage girls?”

After that, a few conversations start at the same time. Cas and Jody – and occasionally Donna – discuss the puberty of young girls, probably an attempt from Cas to find a way to communicate with Claire again. Dean doesn’t really want to listen to that, which obviously Bessy saw, since she suddenly started asking him about his diet. Now, because it’s not Dean that’s in charge of his food, but Linda, he’s stuck between a long conversation between the two women, often asked questions but never given the chance to really answer.

Lauren gets out of the room for a moment to check on the food again, so Sam and Garth start talking instead, sometimes with Kevin joining in but otherwise it’s just the two of them bringing up the latest hunts that have been on the radar.

The moment Lauren arrives they decide to just start with the presents. It doesn’t seem like Claire will be coming at all, so they don’t really have another reason to hold it off. They start with the presents for Alex, who is extremely happy with her iPod and DVD-collection of some TV-show Dean never heard of. Some other things she’s gotten are books that appear to be popular at the moment – it’s about a secret love between an Angel and a human, Jody explains him the moment Alex starts to hug Donna for giving her that present.

Kevin unpacks a box filled with those cookies that he loves, comic books, a PS3-console (that one’s from Sam, Cas and Dean), and then a few games that go with it. He seems so happy with it that he starts installing the device right away.

The presents go on and on – Bessy and Garth seem especially happy with the crib they’ve gotten them – and when it’s Dean’s turn to start unpacking, a package is thrown on his lap by Charlie, who is grinning widely at him.

It turns out to be the next season of Dr. Sexy, and while Dean had hoped the others would have been spared of the detail that he likes that show, he can’t help but thank Charlie for it. Besides that, he shouldn’t be surprised that the next few gifts are kid-related (except for Garth’s and Bessy’s, since they had no idea about the twins). There’s a coupon for a store that sells children’s furniture, a few child onesies with bright and happy colors, coloring books, diapers, bottles. It looks like he and Cas have gotten the majority of the gifts here. The biggest presents are Sam’s, being two carseats for the twins to install in the Impala.

When he gets to Lauren’s present, he almost expects something of the same, so he unpacks the package without too much hesitation. It feels like more clothing, and Dean is on his way to thank Lauren, but once the wrapping paper is completely gone a small shriek escapes his mouth when he sees that it isn’t children’s clothing.

“ _Lauren_!” Dean shouts with a red face, trying to hide the red, black and white panties back underneath the wrapping paper, but by the reaction of the others, it’s too late for that. Cas has his face turned away, but he looks equally embarrassed about it.

“What? You didn’t hesitate to wear them back when you thought you were an actual woman?” Sam’s girlfriend says with no shame at all. Dean puts his hand on her mouth to shut her up, but the damage has already been done. While the others seem amused about this, Kevin and Alex both look uncomfortable enough and turn their gaze away as well, starting a conversation together to escape the grown-up things like that – though Kevin technically is eighteen, thus an adult as well. Boys will be boys, right?

“You are horrible,” Dean mutters with his hands on his face, head pressed against Cas’ shoulder.

“Ah come on, pregnant people need to have sex, too,” Lauren counters. “Fun fact, during pregnancies, a woman’s libido can be heightened, making them crave more-“ Sam puts his hand on her mouth now as well, just in time to stop her.

Around five, Mrs. Tran declares that it’s time for food, so they all stand up at last. The trip to the main room isn’t all that long, so the conversations that have been going on don’t die out. Kevin sits himself down at the side of the table, with Donna and Mrs. Tran on either side of him. Next to Linda, Lauren sits herself down, followed by Sam, Garth, and Bessy. Next to Donna, Jody is seated, with Dean and Cas next to her. At the other end of the table sits Alex, who somehow has engaged in a deep conversation with Cas.

The food is delicious. It isn’t often that Dean gets the chance to enjoy such a good meal, but Linda made it very clear that it’s only for today that he’s allowed to let himself go like that.

He does stay away from the meat. His stomach already starts to ache when he even smells it – which is why he took a minute longer than the others to finally be seated. He’s also forbidden to drink wine, but that’s something he can agree on.

“I would like to make a toast,” Garth suddenly says from next to Sam. Everybody looks at him with a surprised expression, most of them already halfway through their plate. Garth has his glass raised in the air. He scrapes his throat, takes a deep sigh, and then starts.

“Things might always be weird. It’s almost normal for us, in this line of work,” Garth starts, voice shaking just a little bit. “But somehow, in this whole weirdness, we’ve all found people that make us happy. Sam and Lauren, Jody and Alex, and Donna, let’s admit it, you’re part of that little team, too.”

Donna gives Jody a big smile. Jody pats her once on the shoulder affectionately.

“But I think, while we all deserve to be happy and the exact opposite of lonely, and Dean and Cas, you guys have finally found happiness together.”

All eyes are on them now. Dean feels his cheeks flush a little bit, seeing how everybody is staring at him and Cas with their glass of wine in their hands, raised slightly in the air.

“I’m sure I’m not the only one here that can say that they are _so_ proud of how far you’ve come, and how far you’ll be getting in a few more months. Congratulations with the babies, you two.” With that, Garth raises his glass just a little bit more, and the others do the same.

“To Dean and Cas,” Sam suddenly says from where he’s seated.

“To Dean and Cas,” the others repeat.

 

 

By the end of the evening, it’s safe to say that Cas has a real low alcohol tolerance, already slurring his words by the end of his third glass of wine. Most of the time he spends with his face pressed against Dean’s shoulder, trying to hold a conversation with whoever is talking to him at the moment. His cheeks are red, which is all kinds of adorable and makes Dean unable to hold back a small kiss on his head.

“Maybe you should stick to water from now on,” Dean mutters to him, removing the glass from his hands when the Angel can’t seem to hold it correctly and the wine starts dripping on his clothes.

“Yes, Dean,” Cas mutters out happily next to him.

 

 

When Donna, Jody and Alex eventually announce that they’ll be going back home, Cas is already asleep on the couch with a blanket wrapped around him. Dean leads them all back to the garage where they parked their car earlier, and he only returns to the others once they’re out of sight. Bessy and Garth are going to spend the night, though, so they get a room assigned by Sam while Lauren and Linda start cleaning up the table, letting the water heat up to start the dishes – they should discuss having a dishwasher in there, because with so many people living in here, doing the dishes can really take up a lot of time.

Charlie says goodbye with a long hug. She looks at Dean with sad eyes once she lets go, and Dean is sure he sees a few tears.

“You didn’t tell them yet, did you?” she asks him eventually, still with her arms wrapped around his shoulders. Dean knows exactly what she’s talking about, so he shakes his head in denial. No, Charlie is still the only one who knows, and it’s going to stay that way for a little while.

“Just, don’t keep it to yourself for too long, okay?” And then she finally lets go of him to grab her bag again, having prepared it earlier this morning. There’s an extra plastic bag where her presents are. Dean picks that one up since it’s the lightest (and everybody starts to have a fit if he even touches anything heavy) and together they once more make their way to the garage.

After Charlie, too, is gone, and Dean has helped drying up the dishes, he heads back to Cas, who is snoring against the pillow on the couch. Dean almost doesn’t want to wake him, but he also knows that this couldn’t be the most comfortable position, and he doesn’t want Cas to complain all the time the next day.

So he puts his hand on the Angel’s shoulder, gently shaking him to wake him up again.

“Hey Cas,” Dean says with a low voice. Cas just frowns with his eyes closed, and a displeased sound comes out of his mouth. “Cas babe, come on. You need a shower and then you can go to bed, okay?”

The shower is mostly because Cas spilled wine all over himself during the evening, and Dean doesn’t want to sleep next to someone smelling like alcohol during the whole night.

“Mmmmnot yet Deannn,” Cas slurs out. Dean just smiles fondly. When he checks his watch, he sees that it’s almost eleven in the evening. That’s not extremely late, but it should slowly be time to head to bed. Especially him, since Linda thinks that Dean needs a good sleeping pattern.

“C’mon Cas, get up,” Dean then says. He puts his hands under Cas’ armpits and starts pulling at him. The Angel finally opens up his eyes, but he doesn’t look happy at all.

“Why can’t I sleep on?” Cas complains once he’s sitting up, rubbing in his eyes and letting out a long sigh. He’s leaning against Dean, unable to stay up on his own. With a fond smile, Dean moves forward to give him a little kiss.

“You smell like wine, you need a shower,” Dean tells him. Then once more he pulls at his arm to get him up, and with trouble, Cas complies. They go into the hallway once they’re both on their feet, Cas tripping once or twice but able to stay standing because of Dean’s hold.

The shower warms up quickly enough, so Dean helps the Angel out of his clothes since Cas moves so slowly. The fact that he always tries to kiss Dean in the process doesn’t speed things up, either.

“Cas, come on. Cut the crap, you can always kiss me afterwards,” Dean mutters when he pulls his face away for the tenth time to escape another one of Cas’ advances.

“But I love you, Dean,” Cas complains with a sad expression. “Don’t you love me, too? Why won’t you let me kiss you?”

Dean sighs, deciding that a drunk Cas is a clingy Cas, and though it’s been funny in the beginning, now his constant need of confirmation of his affection really starts to get on his nerves. After making sure that the water isn’t too warm, Dean pushes the Angel underneath the pouring water, and then he makes his leave in just a matter of seconds, ignoring Cas’ groans of complaining. He’ll get over it; by tomorrow he won’t even remember it at all.

There is still a lot of mess to clean up, so he starts with the common room. He picks up all the wrapping paper that has been lying on the floor, and starts throwing it in one big box. With every paper he throws away, the memory of whatever present that had been inside of that comes back to him and a smile shows on his face. It’s been so long since they’ve celebrated Christmas, it almost feel surreal that today even happened.

After collecting all of the paper, he carries the box into the main room where he picks up the napkins from the table and throws them in as well. Then after that he goes to blow out all of the candles and he tries to decide whether or not he should put them back right now or wait until they’re cooled off tomorrow.

He chooses for the latter when he tries to pick one up and burns his fingers. Immediately an alarm bell starts ringing inside of him, and there’s sudden activity emerging from his belly. The twins have been warned of danger and they’re probably evaluating the situation to see if they should interfere or not.

“It’s okay,” Dean mutters to himself after pulling his fingers out of his mouth to cool them off. “Daddy just had a little accident, nothing to be worried about.”

The fact that he speaks out loud seem to calm down the babies even more, so the uneasy feeling settles down again and the power of the Grace decreases once more. At least it could have tried to heal him or something, because though there might not be danger, this still hurts.

“Dean, the dishes are done for now. We’ll do the rest tomorrow, but we just need to let the pans and casseroles soak in water for a little bit,” Linda says from the hallway with a towel still in her hands. She’s leaning against the doorframe as she speaks to him, and Dean looks up at her gratefully.

“Okay, I’ll finish up here in a minute,” he tells her. Linda nods and smiles, already making her way to turn around again. But she seems to catch herself at the last minute, facing Dean once more and then reaching him to wrap him in a tight embrace.

“You’re exhausted, sweetheart,” the woman tells him. “Just go to sleep, we’ll clean up tomorrow when you’ve rested and your husband is sober again, okay?”

Dean nods in agreement. How could anybody ever deny Linda Tran anything when she keeps on being so nice to people? Sure, the woman can be vicious and mean when necessary, but she only does the things she does out of the goodness of her heart.

“I’m going to need to fetch Cas from the shower first, though. If he can’t walk, I might need Sam or Kevin to help me carry him back to our room,” Dean reveals. It’s not often that he asks for help, but at least like this he’s not asking directly, instead suggesting it more. Linda understands it enough and nods once more before letting him go again.

“I’ll ask Sam and Kevin to do it now. You just stay put.” After that, she walks away again, probably heading straight for her own bedroom to get ready.

Dean is about ready to head to bed when suddenly he hears some sort of noise at the door; like somebody’s knocking. With a frown he gets to the corner of the room where they hide a shotgun in case of emergencies, and he holds it behind his back while he walks up the stairs. He doesn’t know who it could possibly be, but it can’t be good since nobody would walk around with this heavy snow in a strange place like this.

He has his hand on the doorknob, but he waits before he pushes it, mentally preparing himself for a possible attack. He could get hurt, the twins could get hurt. _Or_ he might go on a rampage, and multiple _other_ people might get hurt.

He still risks it when he finally opens the door. A cold wind gets in immediately, and multiple snowflakes fly in his face. It’s extremely dark outside, and he’s sure nobody is standing there in front of the door.

But he can still hear footsteps. Somebody’s walking away. Carefully, Dean takes out the keys from the other side of the door, and he moves forward despite the cold. The snow hurts on his skin, and there are tears forming, but the twins aren’t sensing any danger so far, meaning that whoever is walking away couldn’t be all that bad.

“Hello?” he asks carefully, but still loud enough that somebody could hear it. The footsteps stop, and in the darkness suddenly a lighter spot appears. It looks like a face, but with the lack of light it’s difficult to see.

There’s no answer in return, but the shadow doesn’t move. That’s enough indication for Dean to start walking forward. With his gun still safely in his hands, he hears the snow crack underneath his feet. The person he’s nearing isn’t walking away from him, instead just standing there and probably staring at him until he reaches them.

“Can I help you?” Dean asks after leaving still enough space between the two of them. There’s a soft shuffling sound before a sigh escapes from the person’s mouth.

“I’m looking for Castiel,” the voice says, and Dean immediately recognizes it as Claire’s voice. She sounds tired and Dean is sure he’s heard a shiver in her words. Almost instinctively Dean continues forward again, reaching Claire in just two seconds. He can’t see her all that much, but he does notice how she has her arms wrapped around herself to keep warm.

“Claire, you’re freezing, just get inside!” Dean mutters out. He grabs her by her arm to pull her along, forgetting how they part ways the last time. Claire immediately pulls back with a soft shout, clearly afraid of him.

“Don’t- don’t touch me,” Claire mumbles, pulling her arms back to herself. Dean tries to think for a moment. He has to find a way that would get her to come along with him without initiating any contact. He can’t really figure anything out.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me, Claire,” Dean tells her calmly with his hands raised in the air. He’s sure she can’t really see him in the dark, but just in case she can, it might make clear that he means no harm. “Whatever you saw me doing the last time won’t happen again. Not with you.”

Claire doesn’t say anything. His words don’t work, but it isn’t hopeless since she’s still standing there. It means that, deep inside, she _wants_ to be there.

“I came here for Castiel,” she then says harshly. It loses its strength when her voice cracks. Dean would gladly go and fetch Cas inside, but he’s afraid that she’ll disappear again. It wouldn’t do much to just call out for him, either, and praying is just as much a lost cause if he doesn’t activate that small bit of Grace he has inside of him.

“Just, come inside with me,” Dean tries once more. “Cas is inside, he’s in the shower, but he’s there. You can wait for him in the Bunker but I have to tell you right now that he’s a little bit drunk at the moment.”

Claire stares at him for another long moment before Dean adds: “I swear I’ll keep my distance, but he would love to see you. He’s been waiting for you all day. Though he might not really notice your presence fully since he drank too much, but he’ll surely be happy to see you tomorrow.” And with that, Dean already offered Claire a place to sleep.

Claire then finally nods, though only lightly. He can hear her move forward, and before he knows it she passes him by without another word, heading to the closed door that leads to the bunker. Dean takes out the keys he took along and warns Claire when he joins her – she takes another step back when he does.

Once Claire is inside, Dean can see that she almost looks blue from the cold. She’s barely wearing any clothes fit for this temperature. Dean’s first instinct is to grab a blanket to wrap over her, but he knows she doesn’t want him too close to her, meaning that he has to keep his hands to himself. He guides her down where she drops the bag she’s carrying along.

“Dean? Did you go outside? I thought I heard the door close?” suddenly comes from the other room, and then Lauren emerges from the hallway already wearing her sleeping clothes. When she sees Claire standing there a little further away from Dean, her mouth drops open and her eyes go wide.

“Hi,” Claire greets her hesitantly. She turns to look at Dean one more time, making sure that he won’t be doing anything. “Castiel invited me.”

“Yeah, we didn’t expect you to come anymore, so the party is kind of over,” Lauren tells her in apology. Dean can see even from here that Lauren finds this just as awkward as Claire seems to find it.

“I wasn’t going to,” Claire admits carefully. “I had a place I was staying but one of the people there… well, it didn’t end well so I left again.”

“What did they do to you?” Dean asks in concern. He can’t help the angry tone in his voice and notices it only when it’s too late and Claire is already flinching away from him with her shoulders tense. She takes a step towards Lauren but doesn’t let her eyes leave Dean for ten full seconds.

“It doesn’t matter,” Claire tells him defensively in return. Then her head turns back towards Lauren. It looks like she does seem to trust her. “I just- I couldn’t stay outside with this weather.”

Lauren just nods in silence, for a second reaching out her hand but seemingly changing her mind. “We’ll wash your clothes as well if you want, we’ll make sure you’ll be able to leave as soon as you wish,” she assures her. With one short look at Dean, the hunter nods and picks up the bag, ready to move towards the laundry room. Claire stays quiet the whole time. “Dean can show you where the showers are and where you can sleep tonight. You can see Castiel in the morning when he’s sober again. You don’t have to be afraid, either. You’re completely safe in here.”

Claire once more turns her head back to stare at Dean some more. It’s enough explanation that she doesn’t feel safe with him around. Dean doesn’t take it personally; he knows what the twins are capable of. Instead of being insulted, Dean takes a step forward, nodding towards the hallway Lauren came from. He knows what the woman is doing, trying to have Claire to start trusting Dean, to talk to him.

Claire waits for Dean to pass him by before she starts moving, too. Dean stops when he reaches his friend. He leans his head forward so his mouth is close to her ear.

“I can see what you’re doing there,” Dean tells him in a whisper. “You’re a sneaky bitch, I’ll tell you that.”

Lauren just smiles gently before nodding gently and walking away again. Before she can get too far, Dean hands her the bag filled with Claire’s clothes, and then he nods towards the hallway with one short look at Claire, who is just staring at them some sort of strange bewilderment.

“So, you seen a lot of things while you were out?” Dean tries, not expecting an answer. He’s not even disappointed when Claire doesn’t bother to respond, but instead he just keeps on talking. “It’s been kind of lame since you’ve left again. Cas and I had a small fight – I can tell you, it happens even to the best couples – and after that I’ve received house arrest if you can believe it!”

Claire just snorts.

“Yeah you might think it’s funny, but I can tell you that I’d rather be out there travelling from town to town instead of being forced to sit here and research every monster Sam and Cas stumble across.”

“Then why do you stay here?” Claire suddenly asks. “You’re an adult, if you want out you can just do it, right?”

Dean shakes his head. If only it was so easy. “I agree to stay here because I have a responsibility to save people,” Dean tells her. “But every time I’m in any kind of danger or stress, these two kiddos inside of me take over and start smiting around. That could cause more harm than saving.”

He only realizes Claire has stopped walking when she reacts to his comment. “You’re expecting twins?” she asks in surprise. Dean turns around to find her there with eyes open wide. All Dean can do is nod in silence. Then he shrugs.

“It’s the Archangel’s fault. We might tell you the story one day,” Dean says. Then he takes a few more steps before reaching the door to the bathroom.

“Will they- are they… you know, my brothers or sisters?” Claire suddenly asks quietly. Dean can see the conflicted look on her face, and suddenly all he wants to do is to just wrap her into a hug and comfort her until she’s feeling better. But that’s just the hormones talking, he reminds himself. He and Claire aren’t friends, not even close.

“I guess they kind of are,” Dean returns, not really having considered the possibility that these two kids inside of him are carrying Novak-DNA alongside Castiel’s Grace and Dean’s DNA. It makes him think for a minute, wondering what that could possibly mean for Claire. “Does… that bother you?”

Claire just shrugs for a moment. “I don’t know. I’ve always liked the idea of having a brother or sister, but things are different now,” she admits. Dean has to agree with that; her life has changed completely, and there’s no possible way they could easily fix that. Even if they were able to give her back her father, they wouldn’t even know where to begin trying to find her mother.

Dean clears his throat after a moment, indicating that they’ve passed the subject. Claire looks up again, trying to shake away the dumbfounded expression from her face. “Here’s the bathroom. There are a couple of showers there, just pick the one you want. Your room is two doors further on the left, but I’ll hang a note on the door so you’ll be sure. I’ll bring you some sleeping clothes while you’re inside, but don’t worry, the showers are closed so I won’t be able to see you or anything like that.”

Claire nods, reaching for the doorknob to open it. She waits for another second before entering, finally looking up at Dean and staring him straight in the eyes.

“Thanks,” she says, and then she’s closing the door behind her. Dean stands for a few seconds longer, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. She hasn’t killed him so far, which he had been expecting the moment she realized she might be related to the twins. True, the conversation had been very one-sided at the beginning, but eventually things got better, right?

Dean turns around, heading to his bedroom so he can search through his clothes. He might have lost some height after becoming a woman, but he’s still taller than Claire, meaning that his shirts might be too big on her. He’s sure she wouldn’t mind all that much, so he grabs an old shirt he’s been using to sleep in, hesitating a little bit before taking out a pair of sweatpants, too. She only has to sleep in them, so it won’t be that much of a problem if they’re too long for her. When he turns around he can find Cas already lying in the bed, in what seems like an extremely uncomfortable position. Dean is hesitating on whether to give her their present now, or to wait until Cas is sober in the morning.

But she might be gone before the Angel even wakes up again. So with that, he digs a little deeper in the closet, finding the little package and envelope, putting it on top of the clothes he’s carrying along.

After that he takes a notepad from the desk, quickly scribbling a few words on it before leaving his room again. He turns right again, heading to the room next to his, and there he hangs the notepad on the door, just like he told he would. At least then Claire would know where she would be able to sleep. Then he goes inside to put the present on her pillow, hoping she would at least make an effort to read the letter that goes along with it.

Another sigh escapes Dean, and he turns back to the bathroom two doors further. He still knocks to announce he’s coming in, but just like he’s promised he can’t see her at all once he’s inside. He doesn’t say anything, either, instead just dropping the clothes on a chair next to the sink. She’ll find them, alright.

Instead of worrying more over it, Dean heads back to his bedroom. He’s sure Claire can handle herself; she’ll probably prefer to be left alone, too. With one last look at the bathroom door, Dean enters his own room and quickly changes into his sleeping clothes. He hasn’t brushed his teeth yet, but with Claire still in there… yeah, no, he can do that tomorrow morning.

Cas is out cold when Dean joins him underneath the covers. He notices immediately that at least Sam and Kevin thought about putting on his sleeping clothes and helped him brushing his own teeth. Dean smiles softly when the Angel shifts in his bed until his head is resting on Dean’s shoulder, and when Cas’ hand ends up on top of his hart, Dean tangles his fingers with his husband’s.

“I don’t know if it’s because you’re asleep that I’m saying this, but…” Dean starts, taking a deep breath and watching Castiel’s head raising along with his chest, “I love you, too.”

And that’s the second time Dean has told Cas, once again while the Angel was asleep.

But Dean doesn’t see Castiel’s eyes open in shock, and neither does he see the smile creeping up his face. He doesn’t need to know, either.

 

* * *

 

 

_December 25 th  
Men of Letters HQ_

Dean turns out to have been right when he gets out of bed the next day and finding the door to Claire’s bedroom already open and free of any of the bags she had been carrying around. The clothes she had been sleeping in are now lying neatly on the bed, completely folded up.

There’s this feeling of sadness going through Dean when he realizes that Cas didn’t even get the chance to see her before she snuck out again. Dean turns his head back towards his own bedroom, knowing that the Angel is still sound sleep back there. He’s most probably going to wake up with a massive headache.

Dean doesn’t bother to get changed, but he does go to the bathroom to snatch one of those robes hanging there, putting it on quickly enough before moving through the hallway towards the main room. There’s nobody else here, which must mean they’re either in the kitchen or still in bed.

If the voices further away are any indication, they must be in the kitchen. Dean turns back around again, heading for a new destination towards the others…

… Only to find Linda Tran making scrambled eggs and talking to Claire, who is seated at the table and looking like she’s really into the conversation.

Neither of them has noticed Dean yet, who can’t seem to move from the doorframe right at this moment. His mouth has fallen open, but no sound comes out. When he lifts up a hand as if to ask a question, he drops it again soon after.

Because Claire really looks relaxed right now. There’s an actual smile on her face while she listens to the woman, waiting for the breakfast that is being cooked right now. Her shoulders aren’t tense for once, her eyebrows not pulled together. She looks… happy?

“Good morning, Dean. I hope you slept well?” Linda asks cheerfully the moment she notices him. She lifts up the pan to put some of the eggs on Claire’s plate, and then she quickly takes the salt from next to her and hands it to the girl.

Claire’s posture has changed immediately the moment she’s heard Dean’s name being called out. The smile disappears from her face, her shoulders tense again, and that calmness that had been in her eyes is now once again gone.

“I caught Claire here before she managed to sneak out,” Linda continues as if nothing is wrong. She probably knows how difficult Claire has it to trust Dean, but it’s like she doesn’t really care about that. “I already told her it’s impolite to leave somebody’s house without thanking everyone for the chance to stay, so she agreed to wait until everybody is up. Isn’t that great?”

Dean’s eyes find Linda’s for a moment, and in all that deep brown color he finds something reassuring. Linda seems to have a plan or some sort, but her face doesn’t show it. Damn, that woman can really mask her emotions!

“Uh, that’s amazing,” Dean answers stupidly. He then realizes he’s still standing in the doorframe, so he finally moves forward, descending the little stairs and making his way to his usual seat – which is coincidentally facing Claire right now.

Once Dean is seated, another plate is pushed in front of him, and where he’d expected eggs, instead he finds two rashers of grilled bacon with grilled tomato on a slice of what seems like toast. It’s kind of weird for a breakfast, and it’s probably not enough for his hunger. Before he can manage to ask for anything to drink, a glass of apple juice is pushed in front of him. Surprisingly, Dean’s stomach isn’t turning around at the smell of the bacon.

“What’s that?” Claire asks with her mouth full, question obviously directed towards Linda.

“Dean has to follow a special diet that is pregnancy-friendly. It’s healthier for the babies,” Linda tells her while drying off some more dishes. Dean already opens his mouth again to tell her something in return, but Linda beats him to it. “He always complains about it but in the end he always does eat it.”

Claire swallows her food down, eyes resting on Dean’s plate with some sort of curiosity.

“But aren’t they half-Angel? Can they even get sick or something like that?” she asks, repeating Dean’s question from a few weeks back when he just started with it. “I mean, come on, even I feel sorry for him because that just looks like crap.”

Linda frowns at the girl but doesn’t speak up. Dean just feels thankful that somebody is on his side.

“See?” Dean calls out, pointing at Claire. “Somebody else _agrees_ with me! Now give me food!”

Linda holds up the wooden spoon she had been washing and points it dangerously at Dean with a stern expression.

“We’re still five against two, so eat up, big baby,” Linda responds. Then the spoon softly hits him on the head before it’s put back into one of the shelves.

Dean can’t help but let out a growl, and then he takes the first bite of his food. He has to admit that the bacon is good, but tomato’s at this hour? And what the hell kind of toast is this even? It tastes like shit! Claire seems to be smiling from where she’s seated, but Dean can’t really see her face well since she’s looking down.

“How was Castiel this morning? Hungover?” Linda then asks after a few moments of silence. By now, both Sam and Lauren have entered the kitchen as well, and after a short greeting towards Claire they got themselves a plate full of scrambled eggs before sitting down with them. In the background they can hear other footsteps, and the loud yawn makes it clear that it’s Kevin walking their way.

“He hasn’t woken up yet, but I’m sure he’ll have a headache by the time he’s up,” Dean responds, thinking back of the Angel in the bed, completely knocked out that he didn’t even move during the night after he shifted with his head upon Dean’s shoulder. Dean didn’t mind, of course, until his arm started to fall asleep and the Angel wouldn’t budge.

“He’ll regret those last few drinks,” Sam mutters out with his mouth full. Everybody snickers upon that, except for Claire, who looks a little bit uncomfortable now that there’s so many more people in here.

“Who’s this?” Kevin asks suddenly when he walks inside. His eyes are trained on Claire sitting there silently, and for a moment all the two do is stare at each other.

“Kevin, this is Claire,” Linda says, smiling widely when she points at the girl. “She’s been here before, don’t you remember?”

Kevin stays quiet while he tries to think back, but clearly his mind comes blank at a lack of answers. “When was that?” he then asks, passing his hand through his hair and with a gruff voice. Yeah, Dean remembers, Kevin is grumpy in the morning.

“A few weeks back I think, when Metatron was here,” Sam offers. Kevin frowns even more as he sits down next to Claire, but obviously it doesn’t seem to come back into his mind.

“I was probably doing research back then,” Kevin returns. He looks delighted when a plate is put down in front of him, too. Now there’s just Garth, Bessy and Cas left to come out. Dean has to remind himself that Crowley isn’t here anymore. When he was here, they saw him so little that the difference isn’t really that big. But now he’s ran away _with_ his witchy mother? No, after everybody is gone again they need to continue their search for him. Whatever they’re planning, it surely is nothing good.

Garth and Bessy arrive when Dean has finally finished everything in his plate, but the conversations that have been going around here are interesting enough that he decides to stay put. Most of them are _trying_ to get Claire into their talks, but the only ones who really seems to manage that are Kevin and Lauren.

When Bessy announces that she’s going to sit down on the couch for a little bit, Garth and Linda join her. The kitchen is now less crowded, but it doesn’t make it less awkward. Dean casts a few glances towards Claire, who seems to have ended up in a real deep conversation with Kevin, but he’s aware that she still inspects him a few times. It’s completely normal that she’s still weary of him, but Dean just wishes she would cut him some slack.

When Dean hears his name being called out from behind him, he turns around to find Cas standing there, leaning against the wall with his hands in front of his eyes.

“Cas,” Dean gets out, and he immediately stands up to take a hold of his husband standing there. He takes the Angel’s hands in his own and guides him down the three stairs, making him sit on his chair and immediately going for a plate.

“Why is my head hurting so much?” Cas asks in confusion, squinting his eyes even more. Dean turns to look at everybody, seeing Lauren, Sam and Kevin being amused about it all. Claire stays quiet, and is it Dean or does she look worried?

“You drank too much yesterday, babe,” Deane explains him. He serves up the rest of the eggs, and then picks up the painkiller Linda had prepared earlier, throwing it into a glass of water and putting it down in front of him. “After it’s finished you can drink it.” Before he knows it he’s pressed a kiss on his husband’s cheek, and he feels his face redden in shame. Why did he do that while all the others are there?

Cas only smiles though. He lifts up his hand to get his fork, but once he notices there’s somebody sitting in front of him he does look up. Once again he squints, eyebrows going down in a deep frown and head tilting to the side a little bit.

“Claire?” he asks in confusion. The girl nods lightly and then lifts up her own hand to wave at him. God, this is so awkward. Dean nods towards Sam, Lauren and Kevin, and then he points towards the hallway. It’s better to give them some privacy. The others seem to agree; they stand up one by one and put down their dishes next to the sink. Somebody will clean that up afterwards.

Dean doesn’t know what Cas and Claire talked about – it’s not his business. But when they came out of that room, about one hour later, he’s asked if he wants to drive Claire back to the bus station, to which he agrees on.

They don’t speak during the whole drive, but before she gets out, Dean catches a glimpse of her new iPod in her hands with the speakers already in her ears. A little smile forms on his face, and it doesn’t even bother him she didn’t say goodbye because at least she accepted their gift.

 

* * *

 

 

 _January, 12 th _  
_Men of Letters HQ_

“I can’t close my pants!” Dean complains as he’s lying down on his bed with his jeans still open, completely out of breath from the effort of pulling and twisting the damn button. He’s already wearing a loose shirt, and his belt is ready to be put on as well, but as long as the pants don’t close, he can’t get any further.

“Now you’re exaggerating, Dean,” Castiel mutters to him with a stern look on his face. He’s resting his hands on his hips while still holding on to the t-shirt he was going to put on. “You had no trouble putting on pants the past few days, why is it such an issue now?”

“Dude, I’ve been walking around in slacks all week long!” Dean counters bitterly.

“Then why don’t you put those back on today?” Is it Dean, or does Cas sound tired? Dean lets go of his pants as he sits up, finding that Cas has finally put on his shirt and is leaning against the closet with his arms crossed.

“Babe, is there something wrong?” Dean wonders out loud when he finds that the Angel seems to be avoiding his gaze. When they woke up, it didn’t seem like Cas was in a bad mood? What changed in such a little time?

Oh no, please don’t say it was that short session of sex they had before getting out of bed? The… _boring_ session of sex that might have brought Cas pleasure, but none to Dean. At least not the kind he wants.

“How could you not have enjoyed it, Dean?” comes out of Cas, and yup, that’s exactly what Dean had been afraid of. The Angel’s insecurities come up once more, and it’s up to Dean again to talk him out of that. Damn it, Dean’s getting really tired of this.

“Cas, I told you, it was fine,” Dean breathes out. He lies back down on the bed in another attempt to close the pants, but still fails at it. Now he gives up completely. He can’t put on jeans, meaning that he’ll have to go to town into loose joggings.

Great.

“That’s the problem, Dean, it’s supposed to be so much more than just _fine_!” Cas snaps. Dean rolls his eyes. Two weeks; that’s how long they managed not to have another conversation about sex. Two weeks, about five sex-sessions, all of which were… okay? Just not great.

“What do you want me to do, Cas? Fake it?”

“You once told me that if humans wanted something really _really_ bad, they lied,” Cas concludes, voice cracking. His eyes are finally rested on Dean’s, and his hands are just hopelessly hanging next to his body. Dean wants to reach out to him, to hold him close, but he knows it’s just not the right time for that.

“They do,” Dean says after a few moments of silence. “But I don’t want to lie to you, Cas. You deserve better than that.”

Then Dean holds out his hand and without hesitation Cas grabs a hold of it, sitting himself down next to Dean without letting go of him.

“We will figure this out, Cas,” Dean assures him, leaning forward until their foreheads touch. “If it bothers you so much, we’ll do some research, try to find out what we’re doing wrong, okay?”

Cas nods gently in agreement before gently kissing him on the lips. Then he stands up again.

“Lie back, I’ll help you with your pants,” he says, but Dean shakes his head.

“It’s okay, I’ll put on the jogging. That won’t cut into my skin with every step I take,” he compromises. Cas nods in agreement and already reaches for the ends of the pants, pulling them away while Dean lifts up his hips to help him. He can’t help the chuckle escaping from him when they are thrown back further into the room and Castiel moves forward again, resting one knee next to Dean’s leg and slowly leaning over him.

“You tryin’ to be seductive here?” Dean asks when he just can’t hold back the laugh anymore. His hand is on his belly as his breath gets pushed out of his lungs. “Cas, don’t. Sam’s waiting for us.”

Cas ignores him and instead presses his face in Dean’s neck, offering him soft kisses against his skin while one hand travels gently over his side. Dean throws his head back from the sensation, but once again it’s not enough to feel _turned on_ , really. He feels there’s a reaction, but it’s just not strong enough.

“ _Dean! Cas! Now’s not the time for this!”_ Sam shouts from behind the door, probably having heard the gasp that had escaped from Dean’s lips a few moments earlier. Obviously against his will Castiel pulls back, offering Dean his hand to help him up again, and then he goes to the closet to bring him some pants.

“You know, Bessy might have a point,” Castiel says as he looks inside only to find that it’s the last pair that Dean might fit in. “I know it’s not what you want to hear, but maybe dresses are-“

“Shut up, Cas,” Dean interrupts him. He snatches the clothes out of his husband’s hand and quickly puts them on before Cas can get a real good look on his legs. So far he hasn’t noticed, but for Dean it’s all he can see whenever he’s looking into the mirror. That, next to, of course, the swell of his belly now that he’s reached the twelfth week of pregnancy.

Metatron has warned them this would happen, and so has Gabriel in that one dream. Slowly but surely, all the layers of fat – no matter big or small – are disappearing. Not all at once, of course, but Dean does notice how, despite his growing belly, his legs are losing thickness.

“This will do us good,” Cas suddenly says while he puts on a thick hoodie. Then he moves towards his shoes, selecting the warm winter boots that allow him to walk in the snow. “After all those days failing at finding Crowley, we could really use some distraction.”

Dean agrees. Cas and Sam have been in and out the bunker, each time with the bad news that there’s still no trace of the ex-demon and his witch-mother. They’ve been contacting other hunters, asked Charlie to check every possible security-footage in hope to find a match… so far there’s nothing that has helped them forward.

“Though I’m happy to be out of here at last, I’m still not sure whose idea it was actually to take a freaking _walk_ in the park?” Dean admits. Still, he’s not going to complain any further. Everything is good as long as it’s out of the bunker. He’s tired of being locked up in here while the others are allowed out. Heck, the last time he’s been into the open air was when he went Christmas shopping with Cas.

“It’s good for you. You’ll get the fresh air and the activity you need,” Cas explains like he always has. Dean has heard it ten times already, and he knows they’re right. That doesn’t mean he has to completely _like_ the fact that his one chance of going out is just a stupid walk in the park.

“And you’re not afraid I’m going to slip on the ice?” Dean mocks. He takes his own boots off the ground as soon as his pants are on, and after that he goes into the closet to fish out his thick coat, handing Cas his own.

“I’m sure you’re not _that_ clumsy,” the Angel assures him. They’re completely dressed now, so finally they make it out of the room and into the main hall, where Lauren, Sam and Kevin are already waiting for them.

Kevin looks just as enthusiastic about this outing as Dean feels, which means not at all. It can’t be fun to go out with two couples. Heck, he’s the fifth wheel in here. They should have spared him the experience and allowed him to stay home.

Sadly for Kevin, Linda is his mother, and when she says he goes with them, he actually _goes with them_.

“Are we ready?” Dean asks. Lauren looks up and smirks. Sam makes a sour face, and looks like he’s on the verge of saying something but then he holds back.

“We were waiting for you two,” he then says instead. Dean can’t help the smile on his face as he passes his brother by and moves towards the stairs with Cas right behind him.

“Well, we’re waiting for you, now, sourpuss,” Dean jokes. Cas chuckles behind him while Sam just lets out an actual growl of annoyance. Eventually he does join them on the stairs and before they know it they’re outside, where Sam has already put the Impala ready for their drive.

“Really think you should drive, Dean?” Sam then asks all of the sudden before Dean can sit down behind the wheel. He throws his brother a betrayed and shocked look, while his mouth has fallen open from the surprise coming from this question.

“What? Why not?” Dean throws back, louder than intended.

“Let him drive, Sam,” Cas reasons with his brother in a low voice and with a strong gaze. Sam then eventually shrugs and goes towards the other front seat – no matter who they’re married with, Sam and Dean always sit in the front. That’s not going to change.

In the backseat, Kevin is seated between Lauren and Cas, and through the mirror Dean can tell that it’s quite awkward for them. He can’t help the laugh escaping from his lips. Cas looks like he’s trying his best to give Kevin all the space he needs by pushing himself completely to the window. Lauren seems intent to make Kevin uncomfortable by occasionally throwing her hair back and letting it fall on the Prophet’s shoulder.

“At least they’re not fighting,” Sam offers, proving that he, too, has been thinking the same thing.

They make it to the center of Lebanon without any trouble, but it takes Dean another ten minutes to find a good parking spot. A few of the people walking by eye his baby appreciatively, and once more a proud feeling passes over him, because this baby here is _his_ car, and obviously all these people out there are _envying_ him for having this beauty to drive with.

Once outside, Dean wishes he could just go back in. It has stopped snowing after nine in the morning, but there’s a thick white layer over the whole ground, and when Dean gets out of the car, he has to hold himself tightly just so he wouldn’t slip. They should really throw some salt on the road because this is dangerous.

“How beautiful is this?” Lauren wonders out loud as they move to the sideway. She’s hooked her arm with Sam’s and presses closer to him to keep herself warm. There aren’t any children around since they’re back at school, but while they walk Dean does come across some parents walking with their babies.

“You think the twins will like the snow?” Kevin asks as he kicks away the white layer that has been collecting on his feet. The park is just around the corner now, but the Prophet’s face is already completely pink from the cold.

“I don’t know,” Dean says, wondering how the kid even thinks Dean would know. It’s not like they can just tell him right now, right? The both of them are safe in there, completely warm and cozy together with each other. The first bit of cold they’re ever going to feel is when they’re getting out of him.

He knows full well what their birth will mean, so when he throws a short look towards Cas, he does something he normally doesn’t do with anybody around.

He offers his hand.

Cas looks just as surprised from that. He frowns for a few seconds, then turns to check in on the others to find what is prompting Dean to act like this, and then, finally, he seems to give up and takes the hand in his own.

Their skin isn’t touching because of the gloves, but it does feel good to have this kind of contact with each other. Dean gently rubs Cas’ fingers with his thumb, and then he pulls the Angel towards him to give him a short and quick kiss.

Kevin sighs next to them, but Sam and Lauren seem inspired. They don’t mirror them by kissing as well, but they are strongly embracing each other while walking forward. Poor Kevin should really have stayed at home.

Eventually, after about twenty minutes of walking around, Dean and Sam sit themselves down on a little bench. Lauren grabs Cas’ arm and starts to pull him along. Kevin follows them to the open spot filled with fresh untouched snow.

“We are going to build a snowman!” Lauren orders them. Dean feels his heart speed up when he sees his husband looking confused like always. The guy seems to search for guidance to Dean, but the hunter just nods towards him, telling him that he should go on.

The bench is still cold, but it’s better than sitting on the wet snow. Dean puts his hands in pockets of his jacket to keep them warm, and a large cloud of breath escapes from his mouth.

“You and Cas are getting better again?” Sam asks him once the others are far enough away not to be overheard.

“Well, we have our bad moments, but yeah, generally things are good right now.” That’s not a complete lie; it’s not like they are a disaster together. They still care for each other and would do probably everything to make things even better.

“And these bad moments?” Sam then asks. Dean turns his head towards his brother and raises his eyebrow.

“You really want to know?” he checks before getting into the details. Dean has never been shy about this, so he has no trouble getting the problem up with Sam. He just knows that his brother will react badly to it, like he always does.

“Probably not, but if it bothers you, you should talk about it,” Sam counters. Dean can’t help but feel impressed at the maturity of his brother here. He nods lightly pulls his hands out of his pockets to clap them together, and then sighs.

“The sex isn’t great,” he confesses at last. “It hasn’t been since I… you know… changed.”

Sam stays quiet for a moment while he processes the new information. His eyebrows are raised high and his lips are put into a thin line, but it looks like he’s actually going to be an adult about this. Maybe Dean should give him more credit, Sam only does his best to be a good brother for him all of the time.

“And you have any idea what… might be a reason for that?” comes out. Sam’s voice is slightly shaky, but only barely.

“We miss my dick,” Dean deadpans, mostly just to annoy his brother. If the guy had been drinking something, he would have choked on it. His face still has gotten a lot paler, in Dean’s opinion, and Dean is torn between being worried and laughing himself to death.

“O-okay,” Sam breathes out awkwardly. He leans forward a little bit to rest his elbows on his thighs, and then his hands are supporting his chin. It’s the typical thinking-pose. “Then you’ll have to work past that, right?”

“Yeah, what do you think we’ve been trying?” Dean mutters in response. Sam shakes his head.

“Have either of you been thinking about…” Sam hesitates, and then frowns in disgust. “Have you been thinking of f-for-“

“Just get it out, Sammy,” Dean snaps when it’s taking too long for his taste.

“You know, foreplay?” finally comes out. Dean’s brain stops working for a moment after that, but once it starts working again, thoughts are being thrown towards the younger hunter next to him. _What the actual fuck, Sammy!_ Or _Of course we’ve been doing that, we’re not stupid!”_

“Believe me, we’ve tried that. Usually, us touching each other everywhere is what got us ticking,” Dean admits, ignoring the slight heat of shame coloring his cheeks. Further away, Lauren seems to be barking orders at Cas and Kevin to build the perfect snowman, but obviously they’re still working on the lower piece of the damn thing.

“Yeah, but, do you stimulate… down _there_?” Sam almost whispers out, making some strange indications with his hands towards his crotch. If it’s possible the blush on his face has become even harder.

“Dude,” Dean responds, mostly because the way Sam is struggling with this is just too hilarious. But then, as he thinks a bit further, he does notice that Sam has a point.

“Listen, Dean, you had those one-night-stands, and you enjoyed those pretty well from what I heard, meaning that you _can_ get the pleasure you’ve been having before.” Sam passes a hand through his hair while he thinks of his next words. “Maybe the reason it doesn’t go that well with Cas is because he doesn’t know how to pleasure a woman, while all those ladies back then did.”

Dean can’t help but stare as his brother makes a strong point.

“Just, think it over. And let’s pretend now that this conversation never happened, okay?” Sam begs of him. Dean nods in agreement because getting sex-advice from his brother isn’t really one of his proudest moments.

“Deal,” Dean assures him. Then the brothers simultaneously stand up to join the others with building a snowman. Sam immediately kneels down to flatten the uneven parts of the lower body, while Dean comes to stand behind Cas who has been observing for a few minutes. He wraps his arms around the Angel’s middle, and then rests his head on his shoulder, hugging him from behind.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas tells him with a cracking voice – probably from the cold. The tip of his nose is pink, and so are his cheeks. If he hadn’t been wearing that hat Dean had forced on his head, he ears would probably have been pink as well.

“Yo babe,” Dean returns nonchalantly. He reaches forward with his face a little bit to peck him softly. After that, Cas leans back a little bit into Dean’s hug.

They’re usually not this cuddly together while the others are around, insisting to keep the public displays of affection to a minimum. But now, Dean is dying (though they don’t know that), and he wants to do tooth-rotting fluffy things with his husband before his time runs out.

“I find the process of making snow men really interesting. I wonder why we didn’t do it last year?” the Angel asks after watching the others for some more. They just finished with the middle part of the body, and now Sam is carrying it up with the help of Kevin. Lauren looks like she’s at the verge of shouting orders towards them. Obviously, she’s doing her best in holding herself back.

“Winter just passed us by, last year,” Dean admits, regretting that his first Christmas with Cas hadn’t even been celebrated. “Come on, I’ve had enough out-time for now. Let’s go somewhere they serve hot drinks.”

Castiel agrees and pulls out of Dean’s hold, instead taking his hand once more – now that Dean has initiated so much contact in front of others, he doesn’t seem to hold back anymore, either. The others have just finished putting the head of the snowman, and Kevin is busy searching for a branch or anything that might be fit for a nose.

When Dean and Cas bring up the suggestion to go back inside, the others seem okay with that plan. Lauren pushes herself from the ground (or Sam more pulls her back up, if we want to be completely correct), and Kevin just grabs the first twig he finds and jams it in the face of the snowman.

Walking out of the park seems to take a little longer now that they’ve been in the cold for a bit longer. Dean can feel his limbs disagreeing with every more move he makes, so that means that they should go back inside as quickly as possible.

Once inside, everybody agreed that Dean should be allowed a hot chocolate and that Linda doesn’t need to know about that, so after the orders have finally been placed, and the five of them have found a seat a little further away from anybody else.

Both Dean and Lauren know the people that work here because they used to visit this place back during the summer. They introduce the waiter to the others, and Cas even gets a raised eyebrow once he’s introduced as Dean’s husband.

“Not to be annoying, but weren’t you a lesbian?” the teenager, Reed, asks in confusion after shaking Cas’ hand. Dean can see the Angel tense up immediately, so he pulls Cas’ arm back before he can break every bone in Reed’s fingers.

“Yeah, no, not really,” Dean offers as an answer, knowing full well that he isn’t making sense. “I, eh… like both?”

Reed doesn’t really look convinced – why would he – but in the end it doesn’t seem to matter all that much to him because he finally shrugs.

“Ah, well, I’m glad you got your memories back,” the boy says. Then he leaves again after accepting the money for the drinks. Dean puts his hands over the heat of his cup just to warm up a little bit. Then he picks it up and takes a sip of what must probably be the most delicious drink he’s ever had for ages.

“Hey, let me see that paper?” suddenly comes from next to him, and Dean looks up to find Sam reaching his hand to Kevin. The Prophet silently puts down the paper of today into the palm of his hand before returning to his drink and his conversation with Lauren.

“Did you see something?” Dean asks curiously. He leans a little bit to the left to try and read whatever’s got his brother interested, but the angle is off and he can’t make out the words.

“ _Mysterious Disappearances Baffle Police,_ ” Sam reads out loud, but quite obviously not to Dean. His face is turned towards Cas across him. “Might be a case?”

Cas puts on his thinking face, Dean notices. Are they seriously planning on going on a case without him?

“Might be, yes,” Cas then says.

“Apparently something’s taking people,” Sam summarizes, but after reading the article some more, he looks even more confused. “…and, leaving their clothes?”

“We should check it out?” Cas offers. He and Sam share a long look before the both of them nod. “Then we should leave as soon as possible.”

“Am I even invited to this party?” Dean asks in annoyance, breaking the stare between his Angel and his brother. Sam is already opening his mouth to counter his question, but it’s Cas who surprises everybody at the table.

“Don’t start another argument, Dean!” Cas says with a loud voice. “We’ve talked about it, and the majority agreed that you should stay back at the bunker, so that’s what will happen and that’s final!”

Lauren, who had been busy drinking, keeps her cup a tad bit too long against her mouth, and both her and Kevin’s eyes are enormous.

“Come on,” Dean already objects. _I’m already dying. At least give me the pleasure of offing a few monsters before I go myself._

But he can’t say that, because they don’t know about that, yet, so he stops his sentence and keeps his mouth shut as he swallows back his words of protest.

“ _Fine_ ,” Dean bites. He crosses his arms in front of him and leans back in his seat in defeat. He won’t be able to convince them anyway. Cas and Sam are already standing up without finishing off the drink. Kevin looks sadly at his cup.

“Reed!” Lauren shouts towards the waiter when Sam and Cas are already outside. “Can we get these into cups to go?”

 

* * *

 

 

_An hour later_

The scene is almost the same as that morning. Dean is seated on his bed watching his husband getting clothes out of their closet. This time, though, he’s not going to put them on immediately, but instead pushing them into Dean’s bag.

“Don’t die out there, okay?” Dean asks him. Castiel raises his head in surprise from Dean’s words. The expression on his face is hard, but Dean can see the small emotion of sadness in his eyes.

“Of course I won’t,” the Angel promises him. He moves forward then to take Dean’s hands into his own. “I’m not even sure that I can, either.”

Dean can’t help the smile on his lips. Of course, despite his Grace being blocked, Cas is still an Angel. Dean pulls his right arm back slightly so he can trace his husband’s face with his fingers. Cas really needs to shave, but another part of Dean really likes it like this. It’s almost like they’re trying to compensate for the stubble Dean is supposed to have.

“Take care of Sammy for me,” comes next, and then Dean leans forward for a kiss.

“You know I will,” Cas responds after that, right before pulling back completely and taking the duffle bag from the ground.

Dean stays in their room when the Angel leaves, but only for one more hour before he goes back to the garage to work on Baby.

And when Lauren goes to fetch something from the garage, the Impala is gone.

 

* * *

 

 

_Meanwhile, a few hours later_

“Aliens,” is what the guy says when they question it. Sam should have known that asking the homeless man would be a dumb idea, but Cas had insisted, claiming that there couldn’t be anything wrong with him.

“Aliens?” Cas asks in confusion, tilting his head sideways like he’s never heard the word before. Sam wonders what the Angel will do now; will he play along? Or will he get mad? Or will he just start to walk away?

“Dude was abducted!” the guy now continues, excitedly. “Believe me, I know.”

Then he starts looking at the sky, and Sam realizes they have to go now before they hear too much information.

“May 2003,” the man says as he thinks back. “Those suckers, they grabbed me, and they probed me everywhere.”

Sam grabs Cas’ arm to pull him back, but the Angel doesn’t move at all. To say that he looks confused is an understatement. It looks like there’s a question on the tip of his tongue, and he just doesn’t know how to ask it. His brain must be going in overdrive.

“Cas,” Sam says to get his attention.

“I don’t think you were dealing with aliens, but probably with fairies,” Cas then offers to the guy, leaving the homeless man with wide eyes of surprise. “Are you the first born out of your parents? Fairies have a thing for firstborns.”

Now when Sam pulls on his arm again, Cas does join. The man keeps on standing where he was with his trashcans, his mouth still fallen open from the confusion. Of course, Sam should have known that could happen. Cas does know a little better on how to communicate with humans, but he still needs a damn filter on his mouth about the supernatural-speech.

“Are you sure you’re okay, mister?” the homeless man asks Cas while they make their retreat. Cas turns to Sam to search for some help, but the hunter just shakes his head. Better not waste any more time on this crazy-talk.

“I don’t understand, Sam?” Cas asks once they far enough away from the man to not be heard. Sam shakes his head and lets out a breathy laugh. Hunting with Cas always lead to hilarious moments.

“Never mind, Cas. It’s not important,” he says. “From what we’ve gathered here, there weren’t any cold spots, nor sulfur – not that that would have been possible. What do you think, Cas?”

“Fairies? Maybe Angels, though I doubt that. There wouldn’t be any reason for them to kidnap these people.” Cas leans back against the car with his hands stuck in his pocket. He’s wearing one of Dean’s long coats because it’s too cold (and snowy) to be wearing the trench coat right now. The only difference now is that the coat is thicker and dark brown.

“Well, if you want, I’ll scope out J.P.’s place and you can ask around inside?” It’s not because Sam _wants_ to leave Cas with the humans, but the Angel’s got to learn how to speak with them without any of the brothers around him.

“Eh, sure,” Cas says, sounding a little uncertain about it. Sam gives him a pat on his shoulder to assure him that it will be okay. He can get through this, and he’ll only come out of it with more experience. Before they know it he’ll be a real hunter.

“I’m sure you’ll do great,” Sam urges on before fishing out the keys of the Impala, unlocking the car and then opening the door. Before he leaves, though, he watches how the Angel stiffly gets himself to move forward. There’s a nervous look on his face as he walks into the bar – Sam can’t help but laugh a little. How many years ago was it that he had been threatening them?

Ah well, he’s sure the Angel can help himself. So after Cas disappears behind the door, Sam starts up the engine and drives away.

 

* * *

 

 

_A few hours later_

So J.P.’s apartment was a bust. Not only because it looked like collapsing with just a push of the wind, but according to the landlord he had three more days to go before he would have gotten evicted. It doesn’t sound all that great, but let’s be honest here, he’d rather live on the street than in this source of diseases.

His phone call with Cas had ended so abruptly, too. It’s been good to hear that he didn’t cause too much damage, and he actually sounded quite excited for a guy who hates talking to other people that don’t involve their strange little family. But then he claimed that he was up to something, and then he hung up.

And now Sam’s another hour further, parking the car in front of the motel but with no more sign from Cas’ end. It’s all a little strange, to say the least. But, as long as he doesn’t hear anything, he guesses the guy just didn’t find anything, right?

That, or he just got abducted, himself. And if that’s the case, Dean’s sure going to kill him when he finds out.

Sam pushes his hair out of his face when he gets out of the car, which is probably why he only sees the black Impala neatly parked in front of his room right before he gets to the door. At first there’s confusion, because the Impala is supposed to still be in the bunker, which could only mean one thing. Sam just wishes he could dismiss that thought; surely Dean wouldn’t be foolish enough to actually drive here after they agreed he should stay back home, right?

Sadly, he’s proven wrong when he opens the door, only to find his brother sitting there with a grin on his face, holding a hot cup of noodles in front of him. Sam huffs out a breath, shakes away some of the snowflakes in his hair, and then drops down the key. He know he should be angry, but somehow he knows he shouldn’t have been all too surprised that his brother would appear here all of the sudden.

“You know Cas is gonna be pissed, right?” he asks as he takes off his coat. Dean just shrugs, lifting another forkful towards his mouth and moaning when he takes a bite. Sure, Sam knows Dean isn’t all that okay with his new diet, but now he’s just exaggerating, right?

“Sweet mother of Jesus this is delicious,” Dean gets out with his mouth still full. Sam rolls his eyes and sits down on his bed to take off his shoes. Then he drops himself down on the bed and stares at the ceiling, not saying a word. He knows Dean will ask soon enough.

Three.

Two.

One.

“Where’s Cas?”

Sam squeezes his eyes shut and then passes a hand over his face, letting out a deep breath.

“He’s at a bar, said he had a lead,” Sam says. “I was actually going to check it out if he wouldn’t call back within the hour.” He comes to sit up again and finds his brother staring at him with wide eyes.

“You let him go alone?” Dean asks a little bit too loud. His mouth is still full, but the cup in his hand is forgotten, already dropped back on the table. The fork looks like it’s on the verge of falling. “What were you thinking, Sammy?”

“I was thinking I wouldn’t treat him like he’s weak? You told me he’s an excellent fighter and that he can take care of himself, so I figured I’d give him a chance,” Sam returns while shrugging. “Besides, the bar was crowded, he couldn’t possibly get in trouble there.”

“Fuck that, I’m going to check it out,” Dean mutters out, picking up his car keys on the table and getting back on his feet. Sam wants to hold him back, to stop him, but he knows it’s no use. Dean and Cas will always get themselves in danger to make sure the other will be safe. There isn’t much Sam can do to change his mind here.

“Fine,” he mutters, leaning forward again to put his shoes back on. Dean is already putting on his coat, and Sam can see that there’s a scarf waiting for him as well. He’s right, though, since it’s extremely cold.

“C’mon, hurry up,” Dean urges on before getting out of the room. Sam sighs and nods. Surely Dean’s worrying over nothing, right?

But no, Sam’s wrong. Dean’s got a right to be worried. Because when they get to the bar, they can’t find Cas anywhere.

It’s not too difficult to notice the guy would he have been here. It’s not like the place is _that_ crowded. Dean hurries to the bathroom, and he surely gets some confused expressions from the men inside when he enters (being a woman and all that), but he comes out with a shake of his head, fishing out his cellphone from his pants.

Sam leans back against an empty table, once more passing his eyes over the whole place, just to see if he didn’t just miss the guy. It’s no use, though, since Cas obviously isn’t in this room. Crap, he might not _actually_ have gotten in trouble, right?

It would just be his luck, the time he decides not to keep Cas on a short leach (because his damn brother told him not to do so) the guy ends up missing. His heart suddenly skips a beat, realizing at last what has happened. His hands start to fumble with his cellphone as well, but before he can press in the number, Cas’ familiar ringtone sounds from right next to the bar.

Dean walks back out of the toilets the exact same time the barman walks towards a quite familiar coat, and then he fishes out the ringing cellphone, shaking his head for a moment before declining the call. Sam feels his hands ball up into fists, and he moves towards the man, Dean next to him cursing because his call didn’t go through.

“Hey buddy, where did that jacket come from?” Sam asks, a little bit too loud while pointing at the piece of clothing. A few people look his way at the sound of his voice, but at least he has caught Dean’s attention, too, whose eyes immediately drop on the familiar coat; it’s Dean’s, of course.

“My Bar Mitzvah,” the bartender answers dryly, obviously not in the mood for the questions. “It was a magical night.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Sam mutters back, watching how Dean closes up to them and then slams the guy’s head against the counter. A painful groan escapes the guy’s lips and his hands immediately reach for the painful spot.

“Why don’t you try that again, mister,” Dean bites dangerously. For a moment, Sam wonders if he should be worried. Are the twins acting here? Or is it just Dean reacting on Cas missing?

“Dumpster,” the guy answers heavily in between breaths. When Dean starts pushing on his back again to give him another hit, his voice gets even louder. “Found it by the dumpster!” he urges on. Sam can’t see Dean’s face from where he’s standing, but his shoulders are tense enough for Sam to know that he’s pissed off.

“All right,” Dean mutters out before letting go of the guy again. With a sudden turn he moves his way back out of the bar, but not before grabbing his coat off the counter, gripping the cellphone on it a bit tighter. His face is reddened from the anger.

Sam doesn’t speak, but simply follows him out. He can’t help but feel a little guilt about all this; he let Cas go free, and look what happens. He can see it on Dean’s face that the older hunter seems to be thinking about the same thing. His jaw is locked tight and his breathing is loud and dangerous.

Sam almost loses him once he’s run outside, so it’s more a lucky guess for him to find the dumpster the guy was talking about, with Dean crouched down in front of it with a shoe in his hand. It’s a black boot, and it’s awfully familiar.

“Is that-?” Sam starts, unable to finish the sentence.

“-my missing husband’s shoe? Yup,” Dean mutters lowly. Sam’s eyes fall onto something shiny in the shadows, and he reaches his arm out over his brother to grab it, finding one of the pistols they usually keep in the car. He remembers giving it to Cas before talking to the homeless guy.

There’s a yellow dust on it, though. He blows it off and sniffs the air to try and find out what it might be.

“Flowers,” he mutters out, receiving a worried but also furious look from Dean. “It’s Yarrow.”

Dean lifts up an eyebrow in confusion.

“Are you secretly a dog or something?” his brother asks, sounding annoyed but as well impressed. Sam just shrugs and then stands back up. “Let’s find out what the stuff is for, then. With luck, Cas will find his way back before we find the answer.”

It’s almost scary how fast Dean gets back on his feet and marches towards the parking lot with Cas’ shoe held tightly against his chest. Sam blinks his eyes for a moment, remembering how crazy Dean can get whenever Cas is in danger.

So Sam stands up as well while taking a tissue from the pocket of his coat and passing it over the gun, just so he can put the smell on the piece of clothing. Then he pockets the gun on the back of his pants and follows his brother back to the car.

There he finds Dean already seated inside. The engine is running, the headlights are on, and Dean’s hands are on the wheel. Sam just takes a deep breath and calms himself down. Surely, Cas will be okay. He shouldn’t worry too much. Just because he’s human now doesn’t mean the guy doesn’t remember millennia of training. There must be _something_ he learned from there that might help him escape from who-ever took him.

The ride to the motel is short and silent. Sam smells the tissue a few more times just to be sure that he’s right about the flower, and at the same time he gets painfully ignored by Dean, who looks downright murderous right now with his hands grabbing the steering wheel a bit too tightly.

He feels like he should say something, apologize maybe, but he’d rather not get a whole speech from his older brother right now; Dean might say some things he won’t mean and will regret later on. Better not let him go through that again.

By the time Dean parks the Impala in the same parking spot it had been before, he’s outside in just a blink of an eye, storming towards the door and opening it up with what is probably the spare key from the reception. His eyes land on Sam shortly, but he doesn’t speak, instead clamping his jaw shut and marching inside to fish out Sam’s laptop.

“What’s that flower, again?” he asks once the thing is turned on, and Sam takes a deep breath before deciding to chase his brother away from the computer. Instead, he sits himself down in front of it and opens up his search engine before entering ‘yare’ and ‘rituals’ to look up results.

“Hmm,” Sam gets out once he’s passed through the first few results. In just a matter of seconds Dean is standing behind him, leaning over his shoulder to watch the screen as well.

“What is it?” Dean asks, eyes going through the words in front of him.

“Yare is mostly used in transfiguration spells that can change another human’s body into any state,” Sam says, remembering once more why the flower ended up being so familiar to him; he did his own research on transfiguration spells back when they just got Dean back. He had gone to an actual florist to take a sniff at the flower and try to see if he remembers smelling it back in the forest when Gabriel ambushed them.

“Why don’t I like the sound of that?” Dean mutters out. When there’s a sudden knock on the door, both brothers look up with raised eyebrows. There’s a moment of silence before Dean shoots into action; grabbing for the gun and keeping it raised in the air as he reaches for the doorknob. With a quick turn, the door gets pulled backwards, revealing a younger guy – a teenager – standing there, looking a bit sheepishly and tired.

The guy has light brown hair and dark blue, but tired eyes. His lips are turned downwards into some sort of scowl.

“I’m sorry, we didn’t order any pizza,” Dean mumbles out, ready to close the door again before the guy can even speak. It’s only because he puts his foot in the opening that Dean is stopped of shutting the guy out.

“What are you doing here, Dean!” the guy asks loudly with a squeaky voice, but with this familiarity in his tone that has Sam thinking for a moment.

“Listen Bieber, I don’t know how you know my name, but-“ Dean stops talking when he pulls the door open again. Sam can pinpoint the exact moment Dean realizes who he’s talking to by just the sudden paleness of his face. “C-Cas?”

The gun finally lowers down, and Dean’s mouth seems to be stuck open for the next few seconds as Cas walks inside the room, looking a bit grumpy. His eyes never leave Dean, and Sam knows it’s not only because of him being hit by what obviously seems like an aging spell. It must be the transfiguration, probably…

“Cas?” the younger hunter asks, standing up again and taking in the fallen Angel in front of him. He’s sure that this is what Jimmy must have looked like when he was, what, fourteen? It’s even strange to think about it, mostly because there isn’t any of that usual stubble on his face, and neither the hard lines under his eyes. He looks, well… extremely young.

“I’m pretty sure we had an agreement, Dean? We handle the hunt while you stay in the bunker,” Cas mutters out while walking into the bedroom and taking out the duffle bag he and Dean usually share. He takes out the clothes inside of it, and then carries the thing back to the kitchen table next to Sam’s laptop.

“I can see you’re handling it very well,” Dean throws back. Great, Sam thinks, now he’s stuck in their lovers’ spat – which have been happening more recurrently lately.

“Oh come on, guys, not right now,” Sam almost begs of them. Cas and Dean turn their heads his way, and then both of them scrape their throats in some sort of embarrassment.

“Sam’s right,” Castiel mutters out as he picks up the bag again and starts reaching for the guns they’ve hidden away. Sam’s eyes widen in surprise and obviously, so do Dean’s. “A man with a scar on his face took me and that woman away and turned us into… this.”

At that he points towards his now-teenager body. Sam nods, Dean stands completely still.

“What are you doing, Cas?” Dean asks when the Angel starts packing in the knives they’ve brought along. Sam can see the pointy ends pressing against the insides, and if more pressure comes on it it will rip open.

“I’m packing in weapons because she’s still in there. I promised I would get her out,” Cas clarifies, then turning his head around to scope the room. “Do we have any explosives?”

“What? No, Cas!” Dean throws out angrily. “Forget about the damn explosives! Talk to us!”

“I’m sorry Dean, you want to discuss things while an innocent girl’s life is on the line? I apologize if I didn’t think about going over things with you, but then again, you’re not even supposed to be here so you shouldn’t even have anything to say at all!”

The glare between them is murderous enough that even Sam shies away from it, taking a step back from the two and sitting down behind his laptop once more. Dean’s face turns into a strong scowl, but instead of throwing anything back he pulls the bag out of his husband’s hand and takes the knives back out.

“They’ll rip the fabric you idiot,” Dean curses angrily. Then he pulls out the gun they found at the dumpster and drops it inside. Sam knows the rest of the weapons are in Castiel’s car outside, so he holds out the keys to his brother and tries not to flinch when they get snatched out of his hands.

Once Dean is outside, Cas turns to him with his hands balled into fists. “Why is he here, Sam?” he asks with a snarl. All Sam can do is shrug before closing the laptop again.

“He just showed up, I can’t really throw him back out now, can I?” Sam returns. Cas’ shoulders lose tension a little bit, and a breath escapes his lips. Then his hand reaches for his forehead as he starts rubbing the skin there.

“Why can’t he just listen to us for once?” the Angel mutters, mostly to himself. Sam sighs now as well, shaking his head even though Cas can’t see it. They all know Dean enough, they shouldn’t even be surprised about him pulling a stunt like this.

“Come on, let’s save that girl of yours,” Sam offers, nodding towards the door. Cas frowns once more before lowering his hands.

“She’s not my girl?” he asks in confusion. Sam lets out a soft chuckle before grapping the keys of the room. Cas shuts off the lights and gets outside before Sam, allowing the hunter to lock down. Once he’s turned back around, an older woman walks up to him with a big smile on his face.

“Sir, your son is so polite,” she says to him, nodding towards Cas who’s already on his way to the Impala. Sam feels the color drain from his face, and tries not to imagine whatever this woman is implying.

“Thanks,” he mutters out awkwardly. Dean, who has apparently packed in the weapons, slams the roof of the Impala impatiently, already standing at the driver’s side.


	22. I deserve to be grumpy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit shorter than the others. Otherwise this story would never be finished!

_Men of Letters HQ_

A loud sigh escapes from Lauren’s lips when she receives the text from Sam that confirms that Dean is with them. It’s a major weight lifted off her shoulders knowing now that her friend is safe with them. Sam’s message had been short, though, so Lauren figures that he’s busy.

She spent most of her day in the training room; kicking and hitting the boxing ball they installed a while back. She’s using the hit and evade-techniques Castiel taught her, reminding herself that it’s not always about force but also about agility. Sadly, she’s about as flexible as… well, something not flexible, so her moves aren’t as graceful as Castiel’s had been when he showed her the movements.

“Hey Lauren,” Kevin greets her when she makes her appearance in the study room. She’s freshly out of the shower, hair still wet and cheeks a bit reddened from the heat – these showers here are heavenly!

“Yo Kev,” Lauren greets him while taking a bite from the apple she took out of the kitchen. She sits herself down next to him and puts her feet on the table, earning her an annoyed look which she ignores. “So Dean’s with the guys.”

“Yeah could have predicted that,” Kevin snorts out. He puts one of his earplugs back in and presses the space button to continue whatever he’s watching. That probably means he’s not really in a chatty mood, Lauren figures. She sighs once more and stands up, figuring that checking around the place wouldn’t be that bad. So, okay, she probably already saw everything, but there might always be something new to find, right?

But she’s proven wrong when she’s gone through every single artifact in the storage room twice already, and there’s still nothing new. She does find herself entranced by something that appears to be a ‘crystalized moth’, but other than that there’s nothing special about it, really. She drops down on the floor after going through another box she’d hoped she hadn’t been through before, and then she leans her head against the wall, closing her eyes as she bites her lips.

After a few seconds of counting the breaths she makes, Lauren reaches for her pocket, fishing out her cellphone and unlocking the screen. There might be a game she’s forgotten about, so she goes through the applications in silence, pausing her finger above the ‘solitaire’ app. It’s about all there is on the thing, but she’s not really in the mood for cards; not even virtual cards. Instead she sighs and drops the phone down again on her leg without removing her eyes from the screen.

“Time for a clean-up, then,” Lauren says, opening up her messages to select which ones to delete. Much to her surprise, there are even things from before she met Dean, meaning that it’s been a while since she’s done this. All the conversations prior to meeting Dean are the first to go, followed up by those unanswered attempts of flirting by that one guy she slept with after an evening out in the bar.

She starts hesitating when she suddenly gets to a contact she strongly remembers having added. It has been Dean who gave her the number of the hunter called Richard the moment the guy agreed to take on the Vampire-case. Just for a moment she wonders what the status is on that case. Should she call? Or might she bring him in danger that way? It’s evening, so he might be out in the field, right?

Instead she taps on the name and selects to start a new message, smoothly asking about the progress of the case. Surely a message can’t do much damage to a case, right?

After it’s sent, she stands up once more, putting a few stuff back to their place and then heading back to the library. It’s sad that Sam took his laptop with him, otherwise she would have searched for funny cat-videos. Still, she remembers Kevin getting an amazing gaming console for Christmas, and said thing being plugged into the TV in the main room. It might keep herself busy, right?

By the time she’s holding the controller in her hand and she’s seated on the couch, she feels the phone vibrate against her leg, meaning that she has a message. Without really moving she fishes the thing out again, automatically unlocking the screen, not needing to even look at it.

“Kev, you up for a game?” she shouts into the room, but receiving no answer in return. Eh, his loss, right?

She drops the controller on her stomach and then finally puts her attention on the phone, eyes wandering onto the new message she’s received.

_Incoming message from Richard  
\-- What, Sam didn’t tell you? The case has been finished since middle of December. You’re free to return home now._

And by then, all Lauren can really do is just stare.

 

 

By the time Cas has completely finished explaining what exactly happened to him, they’re about fifteen minutes further. It’s almost kind of hilarious the way his voice suddenly cracks all the time, but at the same time it’s extremely disturbing to see him like this.

Sam’s eyes travel into the mirror to find Dean glaring up at hem – angry for being benched to the backseat, but that’s what he gets for breaking his word to stay home. Cas, too, still seems extremely annoyed about Dean’s presence. Sam just figures that there isn’t much they can do about it, so it’s not worth getting all worked up about it. He’s sure Cas will give him his piece of thought once he’s back to normal.

“But cake? Why would they give you cake?” Sam asks suddenly, recalling that Cas had mentioned they tried to feet him. It’s kind of a weird but obvious way to poison someone, right?

“I don’t know,” Cas answers, voice suddenly extremely low before once again hitting a high note on the last word. “It tasted good in my opinion, but it might have been a bit too dry.”

“Dude you tasted it?” Dean asks from behind, voice bitter. Cas turns his head and looks back to his husband with what must be his smiting-eyes because Sam can see Dean lean back after that with his face turned away once again.

“Forget about the cake, guys. You have to admit that this is bizarre, even for us?” Sam asks without taking his eyes off the road. One hand is pointing towards the whole of Cas.

“Both hands on the wheel!” Dean chastises him in the back, and Sam obeys.

“You’re like, what… fourteen years old?” Sam continues as if Dean didn’t interrupt him at all. Cas just makes an uncomfortable shrug. “How does it even feel?”

Cas shrugs slightly and then turns to look outside the window.

“The change is actually not all that unfamiliar. I’ve had change of vessels before, if you can remember?” Cas asks, crossing his fingers together and suddenly biting his lips.

“Yeah but you didn’t change vessels. Yours turned younger. A lot younger.”

Cas shrugs again, tilting his head to the side before taking a breath.

“I do have to admit that my voice often betrays me. There’s acne on my face, which I’ve never had to deal with before. Also…” then he shuts up, and Sam dares to turn his head for a moment to find Castiel looking hesitantly ahead of him.

“What is it, Cas?” Dean asks curiously.

“Well, it seems like my penis has a will of its own right now, because it keeps on going up and down for no reason,” Cas says in that typical oblivious way of his. Sam squeezes his eyes shut for a short second just to get that image out of his head.

“That’s called puberty, babe,” Dean says calmy, leaning forward once more. Cas tips his head towards him to get some eye-contact, but even Sam knows that the angle is wrong and he’ll only hurt his neck that way.

“You, don’t think that you’ll get off the hook that easily Dean Winchester. I’m still mad at you,” Cas tells him with a low voice that goes higher up towards the end of the sentence. Dean raises an eyebrow, but then leans forward even more and presses a quick kiss on the Angel’s cheek.

“Whatever you say, babe,” Dean jokes. Then he passes his hand over his head and passes his fingers through his hair. Cas shakes him off bitterly, but doesn’t say anything more. After a few seconds, Dean pulls away, leaning against the backseat with his arms crossed and eyes pointed outside the window.

Nobody talks anymore during the rest of the drive. Cas does add a few directions for Sam, but it’s mostly hand signals and grunts. The moment they arrive, they head towards the trunk to fish out some flashlights. Sam hands one to both Dean and Cas, but when he comes to handing out the guns he skips his brother.

“Hey, dude! What the hell?” Dean asks when he tries to grab for a weapon but Sam pulls it away. He slams the trunk shut and shakes his head to his brother.

“Do you need to be reminded once more that you’re a dangerous pregnant killing machine?” Sam clarifies in a hissing whisper. “You’re already dangerous as it is! If the only thing able to stop you is Cas, you take the flashlight, and you stay with him!”

Dean wants to answer something to that, but ends up empty on words. In the end he shrugs and then nods, clicking on the light and shining it to the ground. Sam nods as well then, letting Cas take the lead on this one.

Their feet touching the grass is the only sound there is as they approach the witch’s house. The darkness of the outside makes it even more obvious that there’s a light on inside.

“Looks like someone’s home,” Sam mutters. Cas just grunts in agreement, slowing his footsteps when they get closer. Sam’s eyebrows go up when he sees a whole bunch of yarrow flowers decorating the grass around the house. Once they get to a wall, he crouches down and starts messing with some window. Sam isn’t all that surprised to see it open.

Cas calls out for the woman – Tina – but when he gets no answer he pulls away again.

“Alright let’s go,” he says, voice going up again at the end. Cas clears his throat again.

“Cas,” Sam says, pointing towards the window with his gun. “I’m way too big to fit in that.”

Dean then snorts and a smirk appears on his face. The two hunters turn to look at him in confusion.

“First time you ever had to say that, huh?” Dean jokes.

“Big talk, when you don’t even have one anymore!” Sam counters, causing for Cas to let out a snort as well. When Dean turns his head towards him, the Angel looks away, passing the back of his hand over his face and once again clearing his throat.

“Sam you can go around back, try to find another way in. Dean can probably still fit through,” Cas then offers, pointing his gun once more towards the window.

“Yeah,” Sam agrees, moving around the house in hopes of finding a backdoor. Hopefully Dean and Cas don’t get into much trouble there. He’s almost afraid for what might happen if Cas wouldn’t be able to stop him.

Eventually he finds a door. Just to make sure there’s nobody close to it he checks the lights, finding that it’s completely dark. Still, it’s crucial that he doesn’t make any noise. With his lock-picking set he starts opening the door, silently cursing when it’s taking longer than expected.

When he suddenly hears some noises in the background, he quickly pulls back, pressing himself against the wall and turning his head slightly towards the window, only to see a big figure passing by, descending the stairs to what must be the basement. Okay, now he has to hurry before it gets to Dean and Cas.

Without really caring about the noise, Sam fuzzes some more with the door until it finally unlocks, opening up and allowing for Sam to enter at last. With his gun raised up next to his head, he takes quick steps towards the same stairs that guy went down to. Once he’s downstairs he hears some noise in one of the rooms, and he hurries towards it, finding the gigantic guy holding Dean in a chokehold.

Before Sam can finally reach them to hit the guy on the head, a bright white light appears from Dean’s hand, lifting towards the man’s face. The realization dawns upon them too late, because when Castiel finally shouts for Dean to stop, the guy’s eyes are already burned out and the body drops to the floor with a loud noise.

“Damnit, Dean!” Sam curses, passing his hand through his hair. Then he kneels down next to the body, picking up the hexbag and giving it a long look. When he turns back to his brother and the Angel, he finds them in a strong embrace, with Dean’s eyes slowly losing their glow. Sam pretends he can’t hear his friend whispering that it’ll all be alright, and that they’re safe now. Sam knows the Angel isn’t just talking to Dean, but to those two little ones in there as well.

“We need to check upstairs, find the girl,” Sam says, unable to wait for his brother to snap out of it. Cas nods, letting go of Dean except for his hand. When they start to move towards the stairs, Dean silently follows them. Sam then turns to Cas as they move up, handing him the hex bag.

“What’s this?” Cas asks, inspecting the thing curiously. Sam can only shrug, not knowing what it might be for.

“Maybe it’s for this aging spell?” Sam asks, taking it out of his hand again and putting it in the pocket of his jacket. “We’ll find out once we get Tina out of here.”

Castiel nods, pulling Dean with him once more. They get to another door then, hearing a woman speak enthusiastically. Sam recognizes a German accent, but because of the muffled sound he can’t be too sure about that.

“We going in?” Sam asks Cas, and the Angel nods, lifting his gun up again and waiting for Sam to open the door. Before either of them can get through, though, Dean storms into the room, passing them by with seemingly not a care in the world. Sam already averts his eyes, knowing that the twins hadn’t calmed down yet apparently. Only once he hears a body drop on the floor does he open his eyes again.

“Great, Dean! Now we don’t know how to change them back!” Sam shouts bitterly. Next to him, Cas storms inside, passing Dean and heading straight for Tina. The girl has tears in her eyes and is breathing heavily, probably overwhelmed by what just happened.

Sam lets out a long and loud sigh, putting the gun and the flashlight away again and fishing out the hex bag again. If the witches can’t say anything, he’ll have to find out himself, right? He inspect it a little closer, fingers passing over the fabric. When Dean suddenly stumble towards him and accidentally trips against him, Sam’s hand squeezes over the thing, and he sees another light surrounding him.

Oh no, he thinks. What is Dean doing now?

But when the light disappears, he ends up looking at his brother, whose eyes have finally stopped glowing and is by now looking back at him with clear confusion in his eyes.

“Do that again?” Dean asks, and Sam frowns. Why is Dean suddenly so much taller than him? And why does it feel like his pants are falling off?

Sam looks down, and realizes it feels like that because they _are_ falling off. Once short glance at his hands, and he realizes he’s a teenager as well. He lifts up his hand with the hex bag once more, smirks, and squeezes it again. The bright light surrounds him once more, but the moment it disappears he’s back to his normal height.

“Cas, I guess I found your way back to normal,” Sam calls out enthusiastically. Now they can cure everyone and finally get back home.

And it’s then that Dean’s body has finally had enough of it, and he drops down on the floor.

 

* * *

 

 

_That night_

When Dean wakes up again, he finds himself seated in the passenger seat in an unfamiliar car. His sides hurt and there’s a light ringing in his ears. He’s not sure if he’s imagining the faint complaining buzz inside his belly.

He doesn’t speak – feeling like his throat is on fire even though he can’t remember having shouted lately. He tries to scrape the dirt away, but finds that it’s just swollen inside. Great, so now apparently he’s getting sick as well.

Dean then finally looks up the moment he realizes that the car he’s inside of is actually moving on the road. It’s dark outside, but occasionally they pass by a street light which in turn illuminates Cas’ face, who has a serious and cold expression on his features as he concentrates on the road.

“Cas? What are you- Where are we?” Dean asks. Cas doesn’t move at all, doesn’t seem even the least surprised that he’s awake. All Dean can do is frown upon seeing the Angel drive the car. Cas has never been behind the wheel when they’re together.

“Just passed the border of Kansas, but it’s going to take another two hours for us to get back to Lebanon,” the Angel answers with an icy tone that manages to give Dean shivers. His eyes almost look black in the shadows, and the darkness seem to make his face look grimmer than it is. “It’s about four in the night. You’ve been unconscious for about five hours.”

Dean lets out a soft groan and tries to sit up. His head turns around, finding the familiar headlights of the Impala following them behind what must be Cas’ stolen car. He doesn’t need to see who the driver is to know that it’s Sam, since the guy is not in here with them.

“What happened with Tina?” He asks, still hoarse from an unknown reason. His hand passes through his hair and then rub deeply in his eyes to make the stinging stop.

“She decided to remain in her teenage body, seeing it as a second chance of a good life. We offered her money and she went her own way,” Cas explains, sounding as if he’s prepared this speech for the last five hours. Dean lowers his hand and turns to look at the Angel – no, man. Because right now is the most human Cas has ever looked as far as Dean knows.

“So you’re still mad I see?” he dares to ask, preparing himself for another speech about irresponsibility and whatever more he could come up with, but much to his surprise, Cas remains silent, scaringly quiet. His hands on the wheel are white though, obviously holding on too tightly.

Dean nods without really knowing why. He clasps his hands together and starts looking outside, lips sealed tightly as he tries to find something that might make his husband talk. His mind goes back to the guy in the witch’s house, recalling how it felt killing him with just the touch of his hand. It gives him shivers all over his body, and makes his belly protest in its own defense. Mentally, he chastises the twins for once again acting out when they shouldn’t have, making very clear in his thoughts that he was disappointed. He isn’t all that surprised when in turn it gives him a wave of nausea.

And, oh, it’s a big wave. With his hands he starts motioning for Cas to stop the car, but the Angel ignores him at first.

“Damn it Cas I’m about to puke all over your car if you don’t pull over now!”

With a screeching sound the car comes to a stop, and before Cas can ask what Dean’s on about, the hunter has already left the vehicle to let out the contents of his stomach into the bushes next to the road. Behind them the Impala halts as well, letting Sam get out asking what’s wrong.

“The twins feel bad after I gave them a speech,” Dean breathes out when his stomach stops cramping for a while. He’s out of breath and hunched forward with his hands on his knees, but he’s aware of the two figures standing behind him to keep an eye on him.

“They what? Since when does that affect you?” asks Sam when Dean passes his sleeve over his mouth to clean it up. When Cas hands him a bottle of water he accepts it gratefully, washing away the disgusting taste from his mouth.

“I say you deserve it,” the Angel then says in a bitter tone. Both Sam and Dean then turn to him to see if he’s actually joking or not. Much to Dean’s surprise, the dark look on his face looks completely serious.

“Cas, babe…” Dean tries, only to have Cas lift up his anger in such a quick motion.

“Smiting that man was already bad, Dean, but when you burned the life out of that witch, you didn’t think about the fact that both Tina and I were stuck as a younger version of ourselves, and that we _might_ have wanted to get back to the way we were!”

From the way his eyebrows suddenly go up, it’s clear that Cas didn’t expect this outburst himself. He balls his hands into fists and takes a deep breath.

“I think maybe you should continue the trip with Sam. I can’t be with you at the moment,” the Angel then mutters. He turns himself around without another word, and takes back his place behind the wheel of his stolen car. At least, Dean thinks it’s stolen. How else would he have gotten this thing?

“Cas, please,” Dean tries. His words aren’t heard when Cas slams the door shut and starts the engine. In just a matter of seconds he’s already driven away, continuing the road towards Lebanon. Dean continues to stand there with slumped shoulders, a weird uncomfortable feeling in his belly that he recognizes as guilt – but not his own. The twins.

“Come on, Dean. We should get home as well,” Sam tells him, putting a hand on his shoulder. It might be an attempt to tell him that he’s not _that_ angry with him, but right now Dean doesn’t care – they’re right anyway. He made a promise to stay away, and he didn’t keep it.

Sam asks him if he wants to drive the rest of the way, but Dean’s head is just not in the right place at the moment so he refuses. He puts himself in the passenger seat, turns on the radio and keeps his eyes on the read in the rear window.

Sam doesn’t say anything else, but sometimes he hums along to the song that is playing at that time. There’s a commentator that keeps on talking in between the music, and there’s even a few phone calls of a few insomniacs that seem to find it the perfect time to request some music.

Dean only really listens to it when suddenly Extreme’s _More than Words_ starts playing. There’s a sudden lump in his throat then, and before he knows it there’s wetness at his eyes. In all silence he wipes the tears away, but it’s the light sniff of his nose that gives him away.

“Dude, are you crying?” Sam asks in complete surprise. Dean turns his face away so his brother won’t be able to see him, tears now freely falling because of the song currently playing inside the car. It’s _their_ song, of him and Cas. They played it when they were writing their vows. They were playing it at the reception of their wedding, when they had their first dance as a married pair. They were playing it at a concert they visited during their honeymoon after requesting the song. It’s just _theirs_.

“It’s the hormones,” Dean mutters out. And it’s true, because lately the smallest things manage to make him cry – whether it’s Cas being angry at him, or even finding out that the toothpaste-tube is empty and he has to search for a new one. It’s not that unusual that he’s tearing up right here next to his brother upon hearing this song, but, of course, he’d rather have it not happening at all.

“Cas will get over it, Dean,” Sam assures him with a certain voice. Dean throws him a short glare when he realizes his brother is trying to have one of his talks. He doesn’t want one, because it’ll probably make him cry even more.

“Shut up, jerk,” Dean mutters out. Sam sighs.

“You have to admit he’s right, though, Dean,” says Sam as he makes a turn, having caught up on Cas’ car and driving right behind him now. “He could have been stuck as a fourteen year old boy had we not accidentally figured out the hex-bag worked.”

Dean just shrugs at that. “Gabe would have fixed it,” he returns dryly. He wipes away the last tears, takes another deep breath, and then tries to pretend that it never happened in the first place.

“Yeah, or he wouldn’t have,” Sam counters. For a second his eyes land on Dean, and his lips are pressed into a hard line. “We can’t really count on Gabriel right now. Would you rather have people think of Cas as your husband, or as your son?”

Dean shakes his head in the horror of having to imagine people thinking that Dean would be Cas’ father – or, er, mother in this current case. That lady at the motel already thought so, and though Dean has to admit that Cas wasn’t the ugliest teenager in town, he much rather prefers the familiar body of his Angel – mostly because of the going out in public problem had he stayed a teenager.

There’s a wave of fatigue going over him then. He figures it won’t be much trouble if he just closes his eyes for a few seconds, and if he falls asleep, at least the conversation is finished and he won’t have to talk like this any more.

He’s lucky, because when he wakes up the sky is light and bright with the early sun starting to rise from the horizon. The radio is silent, so the only thing Dean hears are the tires on the road and Sam’s breathing next to him. He tries to stretch his limbs as much as he can, and ignores the protest of his empty stomach when it starts to growl.

“We’re almost home,” Sam tells him, giving Dean an unexpected warm feeling upon hearing the words ‘home’ coming out of his brother’s mouth. It’s been a while since he started calling the bunker that, but it still manages to make Dean proud to see how Sam has warmed up to the idea of a ‘home’.

Dean nods lightly, watching ahead of him again, only to find Cas no longer driving ahead of them.

“Where’s-?” he starts to ask.

“I had to stop and tank about an hour ago, so Cas is already there. He left me a message the moment he arrived.”

Dean nods with his eyes almost tightly shut. His whole body already starts to protest to the idea of having to get out of the car soon. He feels it in his back and his legs, probably from being in the car for this long. He’s used to longer periods, but right now his body can’t help but betray him all the time.

“I’ve been wondering for a while now, how exactly does it feel for you when they take control like that?” Sam suddenly asks. Dean makes a face as he takes in the question, wondering if he heard it right.

“You’re serious?” Dean tries, just to check. Sam doesn’t take his eyes off the road as he nods. They’ve just left the town, meaning that it couldn’t be more than fifteen minutes until they arrive. Good, because he could need a bit of fresh air. And a shower. And his bed – hopefully with Cas in it.

“It’s just, are you aware of what’s happening? Do you hear them? Is it all just a blackout?” Dean realizes his brother is genuinely curious, and probably only dares to ask the question now since Cas is not around to hear it. The older hunter then shrugs slightly.

“I see it happen, I hear them in my head but I also feel their fear,” Dean explains. “They feel my heart rise up at the thought of danger, and they take action to eliminate it.” Sam nods, and Dean realizes that his brother _knows_ how it feels like not to be in control of his body. He’s been possessed by both Meg and Lucifer.

“You should find an anchor that will keep you grounded, like I did back with Lucifer,” Sam says gently. He makes a few more turns, lets a few early joggers cross the street, and then makes way to the last part of their journey. Dean can’t help but shrug again.

“Cas is the anchor, but he’s actually more theirs than mine I think. They know he’s the boss, so they listen to him. Sadly they’re not listening to me,” Dean mutters, looking at his hands and suddenly realizing that his fingers start to get thinner as well. He subtly tries to check his face in the mirror, but when he sees dark rings under his eyes and hollowed out cheeks he figures it’s just that he needs more rest. The twins lashing out really takes a toll on his body, and he needs more than a few hours of sleep in a car to shake it off.

“You need something else, something that keeps _you_ grounded,” Sam clarifies. “Whenever you’re in danger, you should think of something that will keep you calm enough that it won’t speed u your heart and make them show up.”

“Yeah, easier said than done,” Dean mutters again. “I don’t think that I can really start counting to ten when the life is getting chocked out of me.”

Sam sighs then. “We’ll figure something out.”

They stay quiet for a few more minutes, but eventually they get up the road towards the bunker, finding – to their surprise – that Cas’ car is still parked in the front instead of the garage. Dean takes off his seatbelt before the Impala has completely stopped driving, and the moment Sam pulls out the key of the ignition, Dean is already outside.

“What’s going on?” Dean asks, especially when he sees Cas walking back outside with what seems like heavy luggage and bringing it to the trunk, Lauren walking behind him with a dark and bitter expression on her face. “Lauren, where are you going?”

The woman looks up at him for a moment but when her eyes then come to rest on Sam, a long breath escapes her nose, as if she’s trying her best to remain calm. Dean can see that she’s balled her hands into fists, and her shoulders are tense. There are little clouds of air escaping as she breathes out.

“I’ve spoken with Richard about the Vampires. Apparently they’ve been taken care of,” she then says dryly. Dean doesn’t notice Sam freezing up right next to him.

“Hey that’s good news Lau, but you really hate us so much that you’ll leave without even saying goodbye?” Dean wonders out loud, feeling slightly insulted that they would mean that little to her. They _have_ taken care of her in the past few months after all.

“They’ve been taken care of almost two months ago,” adds Lauren shortly. Dean frowns, not really understanding what she’s talking about. He thought that Richard was still looking for them. He would have called had he taken care of it, right?

Unless he _did_ call?

Slowly, Dean turns to look at Sam standing next to him with a pale face and a horrified face. Then he looks back at Lauren, who appears furious and hurt.

Oh…

“You deliberately didn’t tell her about it?” Dean almost shouts out. Somehow the expression Sam makes almost looks like he’s sucking on a melon. Lauren seems to have had enough and she starts to walk forward again, not-too-softly bumping against the younger hunter as she passes him by.

“I’m sorry Dean, I really am, but I can’t stay here right now. I need to build up my life again, to get my career back on track. There’s so much I need to take care of now,” the woman mutters as she drags along another bag and dumps it into the trunk right next to the one Cas had put in there earlier.

“What are you going to do? Everybody at your firm is dead if you’ve forgotten? Won’t people be asking questions if you suddenly show up again, unable to say why exactly it is you left?”

Lauren keeps her head down. Her shoulders make a small shuddering movement as she breathes, but if she’s trembling it could also just be the cold, since there’s still snow lying around here. At the front of the car, Cas shakes his head to Dean, looking both still annoyed but also like he feels sorry for him.

Dean doesn’t want to see her gone; he like Lauren, she’s almost – like Charlie – like a sister to him, even though they haven’t known each other all that well. He tries to find something to say back to her, but after another look from Cas, he realizes that it’s not up to him to say something. So Dean sighs, putting his hand behind his brother’s back and pushing him forward towards the car.

“It’s your mess, clean it up,” Dean mutters, almost feeling the urge to go back inside to escape the cold. Still, it feels like he would give up on her if he just goes now. He waves at Cas to come closer, hoping that his husband isn’t _that_ annoyed with him that he would just ignore him. Luckily, the Angel complies, leaving his beige car and joining Dean where he stands, nodding lightly towards Sam when the younger hunter passes him by. Once he joins Dean, he doesn’t say anything, but he also doesn’t look at the pair a little further away. He’s leaning against the wall of the entrance, eyes averted towards his hands and fingers fumbling with his wedding ring.

“Cas please, don’t be like this,” Dean suddenly finds himself saying, forgetting to listen to what his brother and his (former?) girlfriend are talking about. Cas ignores him instead, but Dean can see how he tenses up his jaw, probably biting on his own teeth.

“- _just don’t understand why you would keep this from me? It’s been two months, Sam!”_ Lauren is not exactly quiet, voice clear even from where Dean is standing.

 

 

 _“I panicked Lau! We were only just together and you said before that you would go after they’re gone. I didn’t want to lose you so soon after only just getting you,”_ Sam returns, sounding genuinely at the verge of tears. “ _After that I just couldn’t find a way to tell it to you!”_

_“You should have told me right away, Sam!”_

Dean stops listening, feeling a hollow pit in his stomach as they bicker on. Lauren has every right to be mad at Sam here, but Dean just wishes she wouldn’t leave them behind. Just like he wishes that Cas wouldn’t ignore him like this right now.

He looks up at his husband again, and then he reaches for his fumbling hands, pulling them apart and keeping them still.

“Cas, come on,” Dean almost begs of him. The Angel keeps his head down, pointedly not looking up. There are soft damp clouds appearing out of his nose again because of the cold, and Dean notices it has started snowing again, especially when he sees the white flakes resting in his husand’s hair. “Just talk to me, please.”

Cas lets out a huff of breath and starts shaking his head. He’s laughing, Dean understands, but more in a unhappy way. Then he pushes himself from the wall, pulling his hands out of Dean’s and walking towards the door.

“The keys are in the ignition. Drive her where-ever she wants to go. I’m going to sleep,” Cas informs him. Of course, he’s been driving all night long so it’s only normal that he wants a few hours of rest.

“Fine, be that way then!” Dean shoots back to his husband’s retreating back. He squeezes the keys in his hand in anger, ignoring the way it almost cuts him in his skin. Meanwhile, Lauren seems to have finished the conversation and is already sitting in the car, Sam standing awkwardly behind it with a broken look on his face. Dean feels sorry for him, but can’t help but agree that it’s his own fault.

Dean sighs then, making his way to the car and in turn throwing the keys to the Impala to his brother.

“You get baby safely in the garage, Sammy,” Dean tells him. He can’t be angry at him, though, because he understands what kind of fear drove him to keep it a secret. Shortly, he puts his hand on his brother’s shoulder, but then he gets into the car and starts to make the drive back towards the town.

Lauren doesn’t talk. Dean can hear her sniff away tears right next to him. When he tries to talk to her, she shuts him up.

Eventually, Dean comes to a stop at the remains of her burnt-down house. Lauren gets out, takes out her two bags from the trunk, and then turns to give Dean a long look. He knows she wants to say something, so he gets out of the car as well, leaning his elbows against the roof.

“You be good, okay?” Dean asks her, not wishing his friend any harm to come to her. Lauren nods, drops her bags and walks back to Dean. Before the hunter can really think twice about it, she’s already wrapped her arms around him.

Dean feels new tears starting to come out of his eyes, but he doesn’t try to stop them. Instead he squeezes her a bit stronger in his arms.

“Don’t be a stranger, okay?” Dean whispers to her ear. Lauren nods lightly before pulling back. Then she wipes at her eyes but fails to remove all the tears. A soft but fake smile appears on her face before she turns away again to retrieve her bags.

“What are you going to do?” he suddenly asks, figuring that she can’t go back to the house. Lauren turns her head towards him, another small smile on her face.

“I’m going to take a bus to the airport, and then I’m going back to my parents in England for a while,” Lauren reveals. Dean wonders why she didn’t let him drive her back to the airport, but when a yawn appears out of nowhere, he understands that she did it for him.

“Be safe, okay?” he asks. Lauren nods.

“Always am,” she answers.

After she’s completely out of sight, having reached the bus station at the end of her street, Dean gets back inside, starting the car and making his own way back home.

When he gets back, he instantly goes to his room first, only to find that Cas isn’t there, probably sleeping in one of the other rooms.

The next night, Cas still doesn’t return to their bed.

On the third night, he silently rejoins Dean during his sleep. They don’t talk about it afterwards, but just continue as they’ve always have, because they love each other and that’s all that matters right now.

 

* * *

 

 

_January 24 th 2015_

Dean doesn’t want to wake up, and there are multiple reasons for that. For starters, waking up would mean that he would have to start another day of putting up a mask, of pretending that everything will be alright. He knows Charlie told him that he wasn’t supposed to keep it a secret much longer, but how can he just ruin this peace he and Cas finally build up once more after all that crap they’ve been through. They’ve managed to spend ten days together again without feeling the need to throw insults at each other’s head, and by revealing this news it might all just be crumbling down again.

On the other hand, he doesn’t want to wake up because it would mean that he would have to get out of bed and leave the warm and safe space between Cas’ arms. He enjoys the Angel breathing down his neck too much, even managing to shuffle a little bit closer just because he can.

He can hear Cas chuckle behind him, and Dean is once again reminded of the way they went to sleep; they always go with Dean spooned up behind Cas, but somehow always end up the other way around when they get out of their sleep.

“Hmmm good morning Dean,” Cas moans behind him, sounding tired still. Dean turns his face to the side in an attempt to look at his Angel, but fails at it.

“Go back to sleep, babe,” Dean whispers to him. He needs to pretend that the morning isn’t there yet, that they still have a whole night ahead of them. Cas doesn’t say anything else, instead placing his hands on Dean’s lightly swollen belly and kissing the back of his neck.

After a few more seconds, though, Cas’ hands go up a little more, gently cupping Dean’s breast and keeping them in his hands. Dean’s eyes fly open in surprise, not recalling a previous time Cas even dared to come close to them. As far as he knows, he always seem to have been avoiding them, mostly only touching them by accident.

“Cas, what are you doing?” Dean asks, surprisingly feeling really good from the touch. He notices his breathing getting a little louder and tries to control it, keeping it quiet.

“I’ve been doing some research lately,” Cas tells him. Dean wants to turn around, but Cas keeps him in place.

“You mean you’ve been looking up porn?” Dean jokes. Cas laughs a little bit as well, but then places his lips back on the skin in Dean’s neck.

“Maybe,” says the Angel. Dean lets out another breath, not really _turned on_ by the feeling of his husband touching him like this, but still feeling _something_ from it. Dean then turns his head towards Cas, finding his lips and finally pressing a long and heated kiss on them.

He can’t hold back a shudder when Cas’ left hand opens up and his fingers travel over his skin, moving downwards. A cold chill passes over him, and before he knows it a soft noise escapes his lips.

“Does it feel good?” Cas asks in a whisper. His hand is now resting on the hunter’s hip, and all Dean do is nod when the Angel’s fingers are making circles on his skin.

“Yes,” Dean breathes out. He presses his face under Cas’ chin and bites his lip, his own hand moving up to his face. Dean can feel Cas’ stubble underneath his fingers.

“Good,” Cas answers. Then he moves his hand again, travelling with feather light touches towards Dean’s pubic region, sneaking his way to the warm skin between Dean’s legs. “Because I intend to make this feel good for you.”

Whatever Cas has learned, it seems to be working. On one hand, it seems like it isn’t unlike anything they’ve been doing before, but somehow on the other hand, it’s like Cas has never really spent so much attention on Dean’s body ever since it changed.

Dean’s heart skips a beat when Cas finally touches him between his legs, finger gently rubbing that small bump which takes Dean completely by surprise.

“I know now how to take care of you,” Cas whispers quickly, finger slowly rubbing and breath tickling on Dean’s neck. The hunter can’t help but let his mouth fall open, arching his back in this sudden pleasure he’s feeling. His hand on Cas’ cheek now instead goes to hold on his husband’s hand, feeling the need to tangle their fingers together but holding back.

“You know it’s kind of ridiculous,” Dean mumbles back to him, trying to turn around onto his back and finally succeeding at it. Cas comes to lean above him, face questioning and cheeks red from the heat. His mouth is open as well, breath touching down on Dean’s skin and giving him goosebumps.

“What is, love?” Cas tries, needing clarification. Dean once more puts his hands on Cas’ face and keeps him in place, needing to look him in the eyes for a moment. They can only stare at each other before they both lean forward, in search for another kiss.

“It is,” kiss, “ridiculous that,” another kiss, “you never knew how,” one more kiss, “to pleasure a woman,” final kiss. Now Dean pulls back, smirking to make clear that he’s joking about it. Cas, too, has the corners of his lips tilted upwards.

“That’s true, because I never thought I would have to,” Cas tells him. Then suddenly he starts to pull his body away from Dean, slowly crawling backwards. Dean tries to look up, leaning on his elbows to see where Cas is going, only to find him hovering above Dean’s hips with his mouth going to his swollen belly. “You’re not a woman, Dean. Which was exactly the problem; I tried to treat you the way I’ve always done. But things can’t go the way they were before, and now I know how they’re supposed to go.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Dean retorts, but when Cas places his lips right were his finger had been earlier, he throws his head back, loud breath escaping from his throat, mouth forming a silent ‘o’ and fingers clutching the sheets tightly.

Cas’ tongue always feels like magic to Dean, twisting and turning in all the ways he remembers just as well back when he was his own self, but not aware that it would still work with different body parts. Dean wants to groan or moan, but keeps the noise for himself just so he wouldn’t piss off the others. Not today.

Eventually, Cas moves back up, hips pressed closely to Dean’s and the both of them moving together. Dean can feel Cas move inside of him, and his hands have now left the sheets and are now instead grasping the Angel’s shoulder, now understanding why Cas always held on to him when the roles were reversed. Their lips are once again on each other – Dean should find that dirty but instead he finds it quite a turn-on – and Cas’ fingers have again found that spot between Dean’s legs, gently rubbing that bump at the same pace of his thrusts and helping Dean towards that climax.

There’s no light when he reaches it, though. No wings, no multiplied feelings, but in the end it doesn’t make it feel any less good. The nails of his fingers are digging into Castiel’s skin but not breaking through, and Dean finds his legs wrapped around the Angel’s hips. His heart is beating quickly, his breath is fast, and his skin is sweaty.

Cas remains on top of him, unmoving as he, too, recovers from it. Dean’s eyes are closed, but one hand is going through Cas’ hair as he tries to clear his head again, lips forming a smile before he can really think about it. There’s a huff of air escaping his lips in a small laugh, which causes for Cas to look up at him.

“What’s wrong, my love?” Cas asks curiously. He finally moves away, pulling back gently in obvious fear that he might hurt Dean. After that he pulls out some tissues from the box but then immediately stops, remembering only then that there isn’t anything to wipe unlike before Dean changed. Instead he pats the tissue on his face to take away the sweat from his skin.

“Who would have thought that such a small thing would make a difference?” Dean wonders out loud. He then moves to his side, and Cas mirrors him, hand resting on his hip once more and smile permanently stuck on his face.

“Which small thing is it that you are talking about?” Cas asks in genuine curiosity. Dean shakes his head and moves forward to claim a kiss.

“You know, that little… you know what? It doesn’t matter. I’m glad we got our groove back,” Dean confesses, pressing another feather light kiss onto Cas’ mouth.

“Dean?” Cas asks hesitantly.

“Yes?”

“Happy birthday, my beloved,” says Cas in a whisper, eyes closing again in probable exhaust. Dean smirks once more, traces Cas’ face with the tips of his fingers. His eyes, too, are drifting shut, and all he wants right now is to resume sleep with his husbands still in his arms.

Only five minutes later, the two seem to have fallen asleep.

 

* * *

 

 

_Meanwhile, at an unknown place_

Things don’t go as easily as they used to, now that he’s human. And sure, yes, he’s had two years to adapt to it, but now that he actually _needs_ to go places, there’s nothing more frustrating than being grounded to that one place, being his current location.

Crowley walks out of his cab, having received a weird look from the driver once he stopped the car here. There’s nothing more than the ruins of what used to be a factory; there’s barely any roof left, and there are more holes in the wall than actually walls. Of course, the place has been sealed shut by the cops after the place burnt down, but for years this has been the main camp of a few drug-dealers.

 _They_ don’t even come here anymore, after Rowena handled them. They won’t even be missed.

Just because there’s _actual_ humanity in him now, Crowley can’t help but throw a few bills at the driver, silently thanking him for the ride and almost feeling his mouth burn because of it. The car then drives away, and Crowley is left alone, holding a bag filled with the next load of whatever it is that Rowena needs.

Rowena is another issue on itself. She promised him that she would reopen the gates of Hell and to bring him back on the throne that he deserves so much, but years knowledge makes it clear to him that she’ll probably double-cross him the moment she can. That, or there’s probably a little side note on whatever spell she’s going to use that will end up badly for him. He did try to ask for it, but that woman is furiously vague when it comes to giving an answer.

Crowley makes his way inside through the door, glamoured away by Rowena to keep away unwanted visitors. She made sure that nobody would get in unless they would know which door to take. Crowley _has_ to admire her talents, but that doesn’t mean that he admires _her_.

“Hello, _mother_ ,” Crowley mutters, putting down the bag on a charred table, black by the ashes of the fire years ago. The petite redheaded woman doesn’t look up at him, having her hands stuck in a bowl and chanting a quiet incantation. Crowley knows she’s spying on the Winchesters again – she’s been so paranoid lately that it drives even him almost crazy.

After a few moments of silence, he pulls out the contents of the bag, revealing a few plants and seeds, but also the bones of a few extinct animals that he almost got caught retrieving. It’s mostly why he’s feeling so annoyed at the moment. 

“Welcome back, Fergus,” Rowena then finally greets her son. It’s still weird to see her standing there, looking exactly the way she used to look, only slightly better dressed. She’s always been a fan of long dresses, Crowley figures.

“I’ve gotten the stuff you asked me for. Now may I ask what you need _the bone of a damned soul_ for? Next thing you’ll tell me is that you need Sam Winchester’s blood!”

“Oh, of course not, darling,” Rowena answers. “Sam Winchester’s blood is only the last ingredient if there’s trouble finding the _actual_ last one,” the witch answers, sitting herself down on the chair and grinning up at her son. Crowley still doesn’t understand how he’s managed to stay two months with her without tearing her eyes out.

Oh, he knows.

His conscience…

“Of course it is,” Crowley bites back. “I’ve been going through almost the entire Earth to find this last bit – being a branch from the last place a Hellhound had appeared, which, to your information, was all the way back in India – so the least you could tell me is what’s next on my to do list instead of telling me just in pieces.”

Rowena’s smile disappears from her face and she looks worried – fake – opening up her mouth in an ‘o’ and standing up to come closer to the former King of Hell. Then she takes the napes of his jacket in her hands and start straightening them with small pats on his chest.

“Don’t ye worry, wee child,” Rowena answers. Crowley rolls his eyes, having already given up trying to stop her calling him a child. “It’s a slow progress, but eventually there will be a result.”

“Enough, mother,” Crowley stops her, pushing her hands away from him and taking a step back. The pained look on her face looks, surprise surprise, _fake_.

“Oh, you distrust me so badly, son?” Rowena asks in an unconvincing sorrowful sound. Crowley shakes his head, decides not to try and sum up _why_ exactly it is that he doesn’t trust her at all. It’ll probably start with the trade for three goats. Instead he moves towards the deserted chair and sits down, trying to take a look at the spell book she’s put down on the table. He isn’t all that surprised to see that it’s in a language he can’t understand.

“I would _distrust_ you a lot less if you would tell me the next few ingredients, or maybe even just all of them so I wouldn’t have to run around in circles anymore.”

“All in due time, my dear,” Rowena says with a smirk. She puts her hands on his cheeks and looks him deeply in the eyes. “After all, this next thing might be the hardest thing we need to find.”

“What is it?” Crowley asks, pulling his face away. Rowena blinks a few times, and then takes a deep breath.

“We need the key to the doors of Hell,” Rowena reveals mysteriously. When she smiles, the light shines brightly on her white teeth. ‘We need Samuel Colt’s gun.”

 

* * *

 

 

 _February 22, 2015_  
Lebanon, Kansas, Men of Letters Headquarters  
18 weeks

“Did you know that they have finger- and toenails?”

Dean looks up from the screen of the laptop, where he’s reading a long mail from Lauren. It’s been a few weeks since she left back to England, and so far she’s only sent weekly updates of how she’s doing and how things are going with her parents. So far, she hasn’t even mentioned Sam and their issues, but Dean knows she’s still hurt from it.

“What?” Dean asks the prophet, who’s also sitting at the table in the library. It’s where they spend most of their time lately, behind the books or the screen, researching whatever case Sam and Cas are on. Sure, Dean is still bitter towards the fact that he’s grounded, but after his last fight with Cas he doesn’t really want to go against their instructions. What he said to Claire back on Christmas still counts; he has a responsibility towards others. Going along on cases might bring people more trouble than it would do good.

“Mom just told me that you’re on your sixteenth week now, and that the kids have finger- and toenails on their fingers and toes,” Kevin says, seeming a bit distracted as he flips the page of his book. Right now there isn’t anything to research – they’ve just finished up their hunt – but somehow Kevin continues to find entertainment in reading lore after lore.

“Huh, I didn’t know that,” Dean mutters, wondering what else he doesn’t know about the state of his kids right now. He would research some about it, but, he figures, he has to go to the doctor again this evening anyway. If he’s got any questions he can ask them to the guy in person.

“Heard from Cas or Sam?”

“They’ve just passed the border of Kansas. They’re about an hour away,” says Dean, remembering the message he’s gotten from a probably very sleepy Cas, seeing as it was full of typing mistakes.

Dean closes the screen of his laptop, silently extremely glad that Cas would be back by noon, because otherwise he would have had to go to the doctor alone. Sure, he could have asked Linda to join, and had Lauren been here he would have gone to her immediately, but Lauren isn’t here anymore and Linda is out of town for the day.

Cas and Sam hadn’t left for a hunt at first per se, instead following traces of Crowley, who seems to be all over the place. There have been sightings of him all the way back in France, and then only days later he’s been found in India. Charlie’s been busy with tracking him down, but the guy seems to have become an expert in hiding from the cameras. Last time they’ve seen him in America, he was in Mississippi. Sadly, that was a bust and instead they stumbled upon a vengeful spirit they had to take care of first.

“Shouldn’t you prepare for your appointment?” Kevin suddenly asks. Dean looks up at the guy. To be honest, he’s almost terrified, mostly because he doesn’t really know what to expect. All he knows is that they asked him to come with a full bladder, which is why he’s holding a bottle of water close to him, drinking from it every few minutes. Other than that, he’s not sure whether or not he’s supposed to get naked again or if they’ll just go over his belly this time.

“I’ll prepare when Cas returns,” Dean returns, letting a yawn escape from his mouth. It’s not that he’s tired, really, more bored instead. There isn’t much to do in here when you’re not allowed to go outside. Or, maybe Dean is taking his sentence a bit too seriously. He should ask about that, because there’s only so many hours he can spend behind Kevin’s Playstation.

Dean figures he should go and check on the car some more. It has been only two days since he’s last looked after her, but right now he’s not sure what else he could be doing. He isn’t really feeling in the mood to answer Lauren’s mail, and to stay in the library could lead in Kevin asking more questions about this next appointment. Questions to which Dean doesn’t know the answer.

It’s about an hour and half further when Dean is finished washing the car, wearing only a tank top and some ugly shorts Lauren used to wear when going jogging in the summer. She gave them away because they’re stretchy and can easily fit over his swollen belly. In the back there’s the sound of a car approaching, and Dean stands up from where he’s seated against the Impala, only to see the familiar beige color of Cas’ car arrive. Dean smirks when he sees them, dropping the washing cloth on the hood of the car and putting his hands in his hips.

“Look at that, the Pimpmobile and the Pimps arrived!” Dean calls out, remembering how, one time, Crowley had called Cas a pimp after seeing his car for the first time. It’s Cas who gets out from behind the wheel, looking even more exhausted than Dean would have anticipated. There are dark circles under his eyes, but at least there’s a smile on his face.

Sam, on the other hand, hasn’t really smiled much in the past month. Sometimes his lips slightly curl upwards, but then he catches himself and puts back this sour face of bitter heartbreak Dean can no longer look at. Lauren’s gone, Sam should better just live with it.

“Nice shorts,” the younger Winchester mutters out when he notices Dean’s outfit. He knows he doesn’t look all that great; there’s even a headband on his head to keep the longer hairs away from the front of his face.

“Go suck on a lemon,” Dean mutters out. When he starts to make his way towards Cas, the Angel already meets him halfway. They simply wrap their arms around each other and hold on for a while. It’s been a few days since they last saw each other, so both Dean and the twins aren’t all that unhappy about this longer touch.

“I’m glad to be home,” Cas says lowly against his ear. Dean smiles back at him, presses a light kiss on his cheek, and then takes his hand to pull him along towards their room. Cas needs to sleep for a few more hours before they can leave for the doctor.

“Sammy, get some sleep as well,” Dean warns his brother before leaving the garage, catching Sam yawning loudly with his arms raised in the air as he stretches his limbs. Cas walks a bit slowly, and more often than not does he almost trip over his own feet, but eventually he manages to make it to their room without any accidents. He doesn’t even bother to undress, instead dropping down in the bed and groaning from what must be the fatigue.

“Cas, no shoes in the bed,” Dean mutters. There’s a sound coming out of Cas’ mouth that Dean doesn’t understand, but other than that there’s no answer. So, instead, Dean takes off the shoes, untying the laces and dropping them next to the bed. “You are hopeless,” he adds jokingly. After that, he pushes at Cas’ side, trying to make the Angel turn around. When it works, he starts undoing Cas’ belt and begins to take off his shoes. Cas helps a little bit when he has to pull them off, so at least Dean doesn’t have to work like crazy.

After that, Dean pulls at the shirt as well, barely able to take it off but eventually succeeding when Cas helps him out. After that, he’s completely ready to go to sleep. That’s when Dean fishes out some lotion from their bedside, and pours a little bit on the Angel’s back. Another groan comes out once Dean starts massaging his skin, starting from his shoulders and neck and lowering down to his lower back.

They’ve built up the habit of massaging before bed a little bit after Dean’s return, mostly because Cas’ shoulders started to hurt now that his wings are tied. They don’t do this every evening, but whenever Dean can see that his husband is more stressed than ever, he would push him down on the bed, make him undress, and then rub away those aches in his back.

Dean doesn’t know how it feels for Cas, to still have all these powers inside of him, but unable to use them. Cas told him that he could still feel his wings, but that they are paralyzed, unable to move. It must be such a terrible weight that he’s carrying all the time, Dean can’t even imagine how Cas is feeling most of the time.

“Hmmmmmthatsgoooood,” Cas mutters next to him, mouth opening when Dean seems to hit the right spot. The lotion he’s using smells like eucalyptus and it fills Dean’s nose, probably seeping into his clothes as well.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” Dean jokes. He leans forward a little bit to press a light kiss behind the Angel’s neck, and then continues. After that, Cas doesn’t speak anymore, and it’s only after ten minutes that Dean realizes he’s fallen asleep. Dean then gets off the bed, heading towards the bathroom to clean his hands, and finally lies down next to Cas. He makes sure that his alarm is set one hour before they have to leave, and then he finally turns to look at Cas.

In sleep, his face seems so peaceful. There has been a time where Dean could never have imagined Cas sleeping, but those days are now long past. Dean finds Cas’ hand lying next to his face, and he puts his own hand on top of it, gently tangling their fingers together. A light smile creeps up his face and his eyes move down for a moment, seeing his swollen belly between them.

It’s getting scarily bigger every week, and Dean figures he can’t wear those stretchy sweats for much longer. Linda has already scheduled in a shopping trip to a maternity store, and Dean doesn’t really know what he should expect there. As long as he doesn’t have to wear dresses, he’ll be fine probably.

Doesn’t matter how much he wants it, Dean can’t seem to find sleep at all. Instead, he just turns around again and takes his cellphone, opening up the message he’s gotten from Lauren earlier today and reading it over again.

There isn’t much new she’s telling him, mostly talking about the weather and her parents. She’s planning on returning at the end of the next month, but insists on having a copy of the echo once he’s gotten them. Dean doesn’t know what she’s planning to do once she’ll be back, but he’s sure she’ll figure something out. Hopefully she’ll be less angry towards Sam by then.

He decides to answer tonight, when he’s back from the appointment. He’s the guy’s last patient for today, Dean thinks, seeing as it’s so late when he’s finally allowed to go. Next to him, Cas lets out a long breath, but then continues sleeping as if nothing happened. Dean smiles fondly at him.

By the time Dean’s alarm goes off, it seems like he has actually fallen asleep. Because of all the drinking he’s done today, the first thing he really realizes is that he needs to pee, badly. The next is Cas, holding on to him tightly from behind him, hands resting protectively over his stomach as if the world outside their bed is dangerous.

“Come on, Cas, we need to get ready,” Dean tells him, already pulling out of his arms and getting out of the bed. Next to him, Cas groans dramatically, rolling to the side and stretching his arms and legs with a loud noise. Dean shakes his head, still smiling. “Dramaqueen,” he mutters, earning him a pillow on the head.

“I haven’t even had three hours of sleep. I deserve to be grumpy,” Cas mutters, finally getting himself out of the bed. He watches Dean as the hunter gets to the closet, pulling out some clothes for the Angel to wear. Cas lets out a surprised gasp when Dean then throws the clothes at his head.

“Get dressed, we’ll be seeing our little Angels today,” Dean jokes, resulting in Cas frowning up at him, looking confused.

“They won’t be Angels, they’re Nephilim?” Cas responds in hesitation. Dean only smirks again, pressing a short kiss in Cas’ hair as he walks him by. “Oh, you were joking,” Cas then understands at last. Dean laughs.

“Yes, I was,” he answers. “Take your time, you have an hour.” After that he leaves the room, needing to get the papers Lind had prepared for him. It’s mostly the whole diet she’s making him follow, but also the documents of his last visit, including the first picture. He doesn’t know if the guy really needs that, but he might as well bring it along, right?

The door to Sam’s bedroom is closed, which probably means that he’s still sleeping. Dean tries to be extra quiet, then, making sure not to trip on anything on his way to the main room. There, he finds Kevin seated with some sort of portable gaming console in his hands.

“Dude, where do you get the money to buy all this stuff?” Dean asks. Kevin just shrugs as if it’s no big deal.

“I got a college fund, but seeing as I won’t be going to college…” he doesn’t finish that sentence, but Dean can feel the resentment in the Prophet’s voice. He gets down on the chair opposite of the boy and starts pulling on his shoes.

“You could still go, you know,” Dean offers. “I know you’re smart enough; you were in advanced placement or whatever that is?”

“Didn’t Sam try to do that? Didn’t the life pull him right back in?” Kevin shakes his head and then bites his lip with a strong focused look towards his console.

“Yeah, but you aren’t a hunter,” Dean counters. “You don’t have monsters after you, you are protected by Angels. No harm will come to you?”

Kevin sighs and drops down the device, finally looking up at Dean again. He seems to want to say something, but then stops himself, thinking better of it. He simply shakes his head as he tries to think about his words.

“Dude, you’ll have Gabriel protecting your ass. Why wouldn’t you want that?” Dean cuts in very quickly, recalling quite well how clumsy and stumbling he had become once the Archangel came into the bunker. Dean had never really thought to place it, but it’s difficult to ignore it when it’s so clear.

“Though the thought seems extremely pleasing,” Kevin starts, biting his lip again, “the Gabriel _I_ know is much different from the Gabriel _you_ know. It’s nothing more than a stupid _physical_ attraction, one that can easily be ignored.”

“So if she would offer to go all hot and dirty together, you would decline?” Dean jokes, intending to tease Kevin a little bit. Just like he expected, Kevin’s cheeks color red and his eyes go wide at the sudden question.

“What?! No, of course not! Why would you even ask that?” Kevin asks loudly, lacking the conviction of his words. He rests his head on his hand and tries to pretend that there’s nothing wrong, that he’s not bothered. Sadly for him, he’s failing at it. Badly.

“Your innocence is adorable,” Dean tells him, feeling the Prophet kick at him from underneath the table. It gets out a loud laugh from Dean’s mouth, and he can feel that pleasing emotion right back in his belly. Immediately, he puts his hand onto it and breathes out calmly, trying to soak in the feeling of their happiness.

“Did I hurt you? Are they going to smite me now?” Kevin suddenly asks worriedly, scraping his chair back slightly, pulling away from Dean. The hunter knows he should feel offended by it, but he can understand the fear the guy is feeling.

“I’m fine, Kev, just… having fun, I guess,” Dean answers him in a reassuring tone. He finally stands up again, needing to find the documents Linda had prepared for him. He sees a stack of papers lying on a table further away, and once he gets closer to it he finds a note with his name on it put on the top. He removes the note and picks up the papers, passing by a weary Kevin.

When Cas finally emerges from their bedroom, it’s almost half an hour further. Dean almost thinks the guy went back to sleep for a while because why on Earth would Cas need thirty minutes to get dressed?

“Are you ready, Dean?” Cas asks groggily. He’s rubbing his eyes and letting out a long and loud yawn. Dean nods, figuring they could leave already. It’s still a drive of twenty minutes and in case another appointment fell away, they could go in right ahead. So they head to the garage, Dean taking place behind the wheel and Cas sitting next to him with his eyes closed. They don’t speak during the drive, but whenever the road permits it he does put his hand on Cas’ and tangles their fingers together again.

Once they arrive, they still have to wait about twenty minutes before being allowed in, and once again Cas continues to catch up on his sleep. Dean is messing around with his cellphone, playing games he’s played a thousand times before and trying to learn new ones. It’s not much entertainment, but it’s better than studying the waiting room – which he has already done; it’s a small square room with light blue walls and beige tiles on the floor. There are a few posters about breast cancer and STD’s, and then there are a few paintings of ships and boats. The whole place seems a bit navy-themed, especially with that neatly painted fish on the wall in front of Dean. It actually seems to sparkle, and Dean doesn’t really know if it’s the actual doctor who designed it, or somebody in his family. It seems a bit out of the guy’s taste, Dean figures.

Eventually, after a long wait – and seriously, Dean doesn’t know if his bladder can hold it any longer – they are invited inside. This time Dean isn’t instructed to undress, but instead he is to lie down on the examination bed. When the doctor tells him to push his pants down as low as possible, Dean is silently thankful that he doesn’t need to get all naked this time. Cas, too, seems relieved about it.

Dean doesn’t really pay attention to what the doctor is saying, eyes instead focusing on the monitor he’s pushing forward, setting it right next to Dean. He knows that it’s where he’s going to be seeing his little ones, but it still seems so surreal.

“Dean, you need to pull up your shirt,” Cas silently whispers to him. Dean startles for a moment, not having noticed that he was being spoken to and finding the other two staring at him, waiting for him to go as he’s told. Luckily, he caught the last part of Cas’ sentence and takes the hem of his shirt in his hands, pulling it upward so his belly gets exposed.

Then the doctor holds up a tube and warns him for the cold. Dean has seen enough movies to not be surprised about it. Still, the sudden chill on his skin isn’t all that pleasant. Cas puts a hand on his shoulder to assure him that it will be fine, but Dean isn’t feeling all that uncomfortable right now. At least the guy isn’t probing between his legs right now, right?

It all seems to happen so fast, though. Before Dean can really think about it, there’s this sudden thumping noise coming from the monitor, and with that, the doctor reveals that he’s found the heartbeats. They’re beating fast, Dean would say, but since the guy isn’t all that worried about it he decides not to dwell on it too much.

“Would you like to know the genders of the twins?” suddenly comes out, making Dean’s heart skip a beat. He can understand the charm in wanting to keep it a secret until the actual birth, but he doesn’t want to wait. He won’t get the chance to find it out; he needs to know now! Cas only nods at him in a silent agreement.

“Yes, I’d like to know,” Dean then answers. The doctor moves the device a little bit more around, trying to get a better view on the twins. He squints his eyes as he tries to look, and then lifts his hand towards the screen, pointing at the left baby.

“If you know where to look, you’ll find a penis here,” he says, and both Dean and Cas try to look at it, only seeing a small bump on the image. Dean will never understand how they can ever find anything on an image like this. Then the thing on his belly moves to the other side, and it focuses on the other kid.

“It looks like you’ll be having two boys,” the doctor says. Dean bites his lip, somehow not all that surprised that the Winchester tradition of having only sons keeps on going on. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Cas says with genuine pleasure on his face. He looks so proud and happy, and if there are tears in his eyes, Dean is happy to blame it on his lack of sleep. It’s been quite a day for his Angel.

Dr. Ralph starts cleaning up the mess on his belly, and once Dean deems himself clean enough he pulls his shirt back down, receiving a copy of the echo. He can’t help the smile on his face when he sees the two little ones.

“Now, there’s a few more things I need,” Dr. Ralph suddenly says, again seated behind his desk and searching through his stuff. Then he holds up a little cup, handing it to Dean. “I need a urine sample. There’s a bathroom at the end of the hallway.”

“Okay,” Dean says, taking the plastic cup and lifting the red lid. It’s only slightly embarrassing, but surely the guy has seen worse. Heck, he’s been between his legs, peeing in a cup can’t be too bad, right?

“I must ask to only collect the midstream of the urine,” Dr. Ralph continues, making Dean frown. So now there are rules to that as well? “Make sure the beginning and the end of the stream aren’t included in the sample. That way the results will be more clearly when they’re brought to the lab.”

Dean’s nose goes up in a slight disgust. Right, sure, he needs to pee, hold it in, put the cup in place, pee again, hold it back in, take the cup away, and then finish. Sounds disgusting and nasty. These are things that are never told in the movies or in the shows. Silently, he still nods. He stands up, deciding to get it over with. Besides his bladder is at the verge of exploding, anyway.

When he gets back, Dr. Ralph takes out a little tube and attaches it to what looks like an absorbing needle. With that, he transfers the sample from the cup to the tube, and then hides it away in a little plastic bag with his name written on it on a sticker. Finally, he points at the scale on the floor.

“Now we need to check if you’re at the right weight,” he explains when Dean looks up in horror. If he steps on that thing, there’s no longer a way for him to hide his weight loss. The numbers can’t be hidden away by thick clothes and extra layers. He only wishes Cas would leave the room right now, but that would only bring up more questions.

With obvious hesitation, Dean moves forward, taking off the layers of clothes that are supposed to hide his body away and then stepping out of his shoes. With his bare feet he comes to stand on the glass of the scale, but he does notice the surprised gasp escaping from Cas’ lips.

“Mrs. Winchester, your weight is obviously at the low side,” Dr. Ralph says without even reading the numbers, eyes instead resting on his thin arms and pointy shoulders. Dean looks down in shame, understanding that Cas must be a bit betrayed now.

“I know,” Dean mutters out. When Dr. Ralph asks for the eating schedule, it’s Cas who hands it to him. He takes a few minutes to take a good look at it, but he doesn’t seem all that unhappy about it. Damn it, if only the guy had said the schedule was garbage.

“Still, this is a good schedule. You haven’t been skipping meals, have you?”

This time it’s Cas who speaks up.

“No, he’s always finished his plate, and he hasn’t been vomiting after his meals,” he says, eyes not leaving Dean’s body. It’s a weird contrast, so skinny except for the swollen belly.

“Then I’m not sure what’s going on, but I’m adding a few things to the schedule. Your weight needs to be constant. As long as you don’t over-eat, things will surely be fine,” Dr. Ralph says, writing down a few things on the papers in his hand. “Still, to be sure, I would like to take a blood-sample, if that’s alright?”

Dean shrugs, getting off the scale after the doctor wrote down his numbers in the file. He quickly puts his clothes back on, and there’s a strong relief going through him when Cas comes to stand behind him and puts his hands on his shoulder. It’s assuring enough that he isn’t angry like Dean expected him to.

Taking the blood sample doesn’t take that long. The needle goes in and out, and the Grace inside of him only twitches lightly during that time, but not enough for him to go all crazy. The Dr. Ralph offers him a bandage for the puncture-wound, but Dean declines, instead holding a tissue on the spot to hold back the bleeding. He doesn’t need sticky stuff on his skin right now.

“Now, I need to ask, have you thought about breast-feeding?” Dr. Ralph suddenly asks after a few minutes of writing in Dean’s file. The hunter looks up in worry and surprise, not having even thought about it at all.

“I haven’t, really,” Dean stutters out.

“That’s okay, it’s normal. I’m going to give you a few folders about it you can read through, that way you can take your time reading through them. If you still have questions about it by your next appointment you can ask them.”

Dean, barely nods, and it’s Cas who takes the folders out of the Doctor’s hand because Dean feels like he can barely move right now. Eventually they’re out of the office again, holding their documents _and_ a copy of the twins in their hands. Cas doesn’t say anything, but he’s walking so closely to Dean that their arms are in constant contact.

Dean knows that Cas wants to talk; it’s so obvious on his face. Which is why it’s such a relief when it turns out the Angel has fallen asleep during the ride home. It gives Dean at least twenty minutes more to think about what he’s going to say.

But does he really have to say anything? They knew beforehand that carrying Nephilim would mean him losing his weight. It’s what Metatron told them when they had him here, and they weren’t all that concerned about that then. He’s sure now that Cas will insist on Linda being less strict about the diet, and that isn’t too bad now, right? He could use a good cheeseburger by now.

Cas wakes up when they’re back in the garage, and he follows Dean back into their room, starting right away in taking off his clothes to get ready for bed. Dean is quiet, feeling weird and shaky all the time.

“I’mma take a shower,” Dean mutters out without giving Cas the chance to answer. He picks his sleeping clothes off from his bed and walks out of his room, leaving Cas standing there alone. His way to the bathroom is short, and he takes the shower he always takes, at the complete back. He turns on the water, but then doesn’t jump out of the way in time, instead feeling the water drop down on his whole body, clothes included. His towel is still in hand, falling under the drops as well.

 

 

Somehow he doesn’t feel like moving, instead finding himself practically paralyzed. There are so many emotions going through him; fright, happiness, sadness, and mostly anger. There’s just too much at once. He’s happy because he got to see the boys today. He’s happy because they’re safe and healthy. He’s sad because he might pretend to think about breast-feeding, but it won’t even make a change, he’ll still be dead at the end of it, and Cas will be heartbroken. Dean is scared because he doesn’t want to die. It seems too definite right now, there’s no light at the end of the tunnel for him. The Angels don’t seem to have the idea to bring him back after it’s all over.

But he’s mostly angry because they just can’t catch a break. It almost feels like things were getting better before he ever proposed to Cas. They were happy, things were good and it looked like it was going to stay that way. Then Dean proposed; Cas got kicked out of Heaven, Dean disappeared, Cas ended up practically human, Dean unknowingly cheated on Cas, they got fight after the other, and now Dean is dying.

It seems hardly fair; after all they’ve been through, the least they need is some rest, some peace and quiet. Instead, they get thrown into another theological whirlwind with no way out. His family gets to suffer just so the whole world can keep on living. It seems like such a small price, but after such a long time they shouldn’t still be like this.

“Dean?” suddenly comes out from the bathroom. Dean looks up in surprise, noticing only then that there are tears rolling down his cheeks and he’s kneeling down against the ground, towel long forgotten on the floor and wet strands of hair in his face. When he eyes the walls of the shower stall, he notices the blood rolling down as well. It’s only then that he feels the biting pain in his knuckles. He looks down at them, finding them bloodied and bruised.

He’s been punching the wall the whole time without even noticing it.

“Dean? You’ve almost been in there for an hour, what’s going on?” Cas’ voice asks. There are footsteps coming closer, and Dean jumps in action, trying to wash away the red from the walls but instead leaving a bigger stain. He should maybe start with cleaning his hands.

“I-I’m fine Cas!” Dean shouts back, but his voice betrays him, being shaky and hoarse. There’s a soreness in his throat that makes Dean wonder if he‘s been shouting. Maybe that’s what woke Cas up?

“Dean, I’m going in,” Cas calls out, and true to his word, the curtain of his shower stall gets pushed aside, revealing a half-naked Cas standing there with wild hair and dark circles under his eyes. His face loses all its color for a while, and immediately he sprints towards Dean, taking his still-bloodied hands into his own. “What happened?” he asks.

Dean can’t answer. His heart goes fast, his breathing speeds up by the second, and all he wants right now is to scream, to shout, to curse at God and his Prophecies, at Gabriel for even going through with this. He barely even notices Cas wrapping his arms around him in a strong embrace.

“Calm down, Dean,” Cas whispers against his ear. Dean can barely see anything more through the tears in his eyes. Meanwhile, one question keeps on going through his head.

_Have you thought about breastfeeding?_

No he hasn’t! Why would he? He’ll be too dead to offer anything to his children other than life. They’ll get out, and that’s when Dean’s heart will stop beating. And what’s that noise? It sounds awful! And something is hurting his throat again!

Oh, it’s his own voice. He’s screaming.

And after that, there’s nothing more. He feels his body go weak, and he’s aware of the fact that he’s dropping down, but he can’t remember ever really touching the ground. When his eyes are open again, he’s in his bed, completely dry and in sleeping clothes. Next to him lies Cas, eyes closed and seeming almost lifeless. Much to his surprise, there are scratching marks on his arms and his face. When did those get up there?

“Wh-“ he tries to ask, but nothing comes out except for air and a painful whisper. Dean closes his mouth again, trying to swallow and clear his throat, ending up with only the same result; nothing. He remembers shouting, but now that he thinks of it, it didn’t sound all that human. Maybe it was the Grace, trying to produce sound that wasn’t supposed to come out of a human’s mouth.

“He’s just unconscious,” suddenly comes from next to him. Dean turns around in surprise, his whole body hurting. “I found the two of you on the floor in the shower. He must have knocked you out before you could hurt yourself more.”

Dean wants to ask what Sam means by more, but he’s not sure he really wants to know.

“I brought the both of you in here. You’ve been asleep for about twelve hours, so Cas, too, should almost wake up.”

Dean’s eyes rest on Sam for a moment. His brother is just sitting in a chair next to their bed, keeping a book on his lap. He must have been keeping an eye on them for the past few hours. Dean wants to say something, but once again nothing more than air comes out. He presses his lips together and throws his head back on the pillow.

“We’re going to have a serious talk about what’s going on with you, Dean,” Sam then warns him calmly. “Things can’t go on like this. You’re keeping something from us, and we’ll find out what.”

Dean doesn’t answer, and doesn’t turn away from the sight of his husband lying there. His hand reaches to touch his face, and only then does he notice the bandages around his fingers. Right, he remembers finding them covered with blood back in the shower.

After a few more minutes, Cas, too, seems to move. His breathing gets a bit louder, his eyes move underneath his eyelids, and his mouth drops open.

“Dean,” is the first thing that he gets out, and the hunter is on him immediately, taking his hand in his own and lightly stroking his cheek. There’s so much Dean wants to tell him. _It’s alright, I’m here, I’m fine. I love you, I never meant to hurt you_. His voice just disagrees.

“Cas, you’re both fine. Wake up first, then we’ll talk,” Sam says after a few moments. Finally, Cas opens his eyes, finding Dean leaning above him. Dean notices the breath escaping from his mouth before his hand lands on his cheek, calmly keeping it there in a warm touch.

“Oh Dean,” Cas mumbles out, and then there’s the first tear escaping from his eye. Dean wants to ask what’s wrong, if Cas is in pain. But then Cas answers the question for him. “You’re dying.”

All Dean does is put his hand on Cas’.

 


	23. Alan and Jonah Winchester, sounds badass, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooooooooooooooooooooooorry for the long wait. I have been so distracted lately like you couldn't believe and I literally wrote like one sentence a day or something. Anyway, not the best chapter, but we need to continue in the story so I'm posting it anyway.

_February 27th_  
Men of Letters Headquarters, Lebanon, Kansas  
19 Weeks

There are many good things happening whenever it’s Kevin’s turn to go to the bakery and get some bread to eat for the next few days. To begin, he always takes enough that’ll last a week for them to survive, especially with Linda having the idea of freezing some of the bread to keep it good for later.

Secondly, Kevin seems to have the biggest sweet tooth, so he always snatches some extra delicious things along with him, which only Dean knows about because he once caught him with a whole bag of croissants in his room. After that, they’ve come to the silent agreement that Dean gives him extra money and brings something for him.

Sam’s on an errand to the grocery store when they realized they’re low on food in general, so when Kevin returns with the gigantic bag, he isn’t there to notice it. Dean takes the bag thankfully, fishes out whatever Kevin has brought for him this time, and hums happily when the taste of chocolate gets everywhere.

“Hey,” comes from up the stairs, and Dean sees Sam walking down with a few bags in his hands, tongue sticking out his lips as he tries not to trip down. “What in the world?”

“A croissookie,” Dean tells him, continuing his walk towards the library where he’ll surely find Cas. The guy has practically been living in that room lately, but let’s be honest here; so has Sam. The younger hunter drops down the bags on the table of the warroom and then follows his brother.

“A croissookie?” Sam asks with an amused tone in his voice.

“Mmhmm, yeah they’re the new cronuts,” Dean answers, remembering what Kevin told him when he offered him the bag. One would think Dean hadn’t been listening, but the words are fresh in his mind as he speaks them out.

“Okay, so, what? Half cookie, half-?”

Dean just shrugs. “Who gives a crap? They’re freaking awesome,” Dean says, taking another bite before putting it down on the table, coming to stand behind Cas who seems to have fallen asleep with his face in a book. Gently, Dean passes his fingers through his sleeping husband’s hair and smirks a bit when the Angel scares awake.

“So what’s new in the world? I’m assuming you found a newspaper and searched it through back at the store?” Dean asks, gently massaging Cas’ back when the Angel drops his head back, bumping against Dean’s swollen belly but not pulling away either.

“Uh, good news and bad news,” Sam says as he pulls out his cellphone and going through it before handing it to Dean. “Good news is, Gabriel has been spotted by Charlie just forty minutes ago.”

Dean makes an impressed face, but he doesn’t really see how that’s relevant. “How’s that good news? If Gabriel stays away I would say ‘good riddance’, since he’s a pain in the ass… or she, heck I don’t even know anymore? Now what’s the bad news then?”

Sam makes a sideways nod. “Bad news is; you’re still dying.”

Dean sighs and pulls his hands away from Cas’ shoulders. The Angel’s eyes open when the hunter starts to walk away and picks up his pastry again. Dean prefers not to have this conversation, having managed to avoid it until now. He knows Sam and Cas have been spending days in the library, trying to figure out how to rescue Dean. Dean just knows it’s a lost cause.

As he starts walking again, he feels a sudden pressure in his belly. It’s unfamiliar, and it’s not really uncomfortable or hurting him, but he can’t help but notice it. His hand immediately reaches for his bump and he lets out a huff of breath, standing still in the middle of the room.

“Dean, are you okay?” Cas’ worried voice asks. Dean hears a chair scrape on the floor, and before he knows it there are two overly-large men crowding him and holding him by his arms.

“Don’t worry guys, I’m not dying right now on the spot,” Dean tries to joke, feeling the pressure again. It’s like… a little kick? Before he really knows why, he grabs Cas’ hand and brings it onto his belly, pressing his hand against it. “Feel.”

In silence, the three wait as Cas tries to feel what Dean is talking about. Then, suddenly, there’s one more kick.

“What’s going on?” asks Sam when Cas’ eyes open up wide and a small smile appears on his face. Then, Dean takes his brother’s hand and lets him feel the same thing, thankful when one of the two boys decides to swing his feet again.

“Don’t you guys see it?” Dean then asks when he finds both men smiling. He pulls back again, letting out a deep breath and shaking his head. “In order for me to not die, these two will have to go, which also can’t happen because Cas is out of power to do so. So I know why you’re looking for Gabriel, but I’m begging you guys not to do it, because even if Gabriel decides to help, I won’t let you guys hurt them.”

“Nobody’s touching a hair on their skin,” Cas says gently, taking Dean’s hand in his own and gently caressing his fingers. “There has to be another way to spare the three of you, though, and I won’t rest until I find it.”

“You do what you need to do, babe, but in the meantime-“

“Don’t say it,” Sam interrupts him, but Dean decides to ignore his brother, instead pulling out an article from his pocket.

“I have found you guys a case, you know, to clear your head a little bit,” Dean says, forcing out a smile when Cas takes the paper from him and studies it for a moment. “Iowa teen claims possessed pickup kills driver.”

“Dean, now’s not really the best time,” Sam starts with to protest.

“What, you would let innocent people die just because good ol’ me is dying again? That’s so unlike you, Sam,” Dean calls out with a fake whine, mocking every past time Sam dropped everything to save his brother. “It’s what we always do, Sam, but here’s the thing; they don’t deserve to die, and maybe I don’t either, but at least I have achieved lots of things before I go. These are just kids, dying because of some monster with a grudge.”

Sam sighs loudly, lowering his gaze as Dean’s words sink in. Then he raises his head again and shares a look with Cas, coming to some sort of silent agreement. Then Sam fishes out his cellphone again and turns around.

“You’re right, Dean. I’ll call Tracy and I’ll ask her to join me,” Sam says, making his way out of the library and back into the war room, putting his cellphone on his ear. Dean frowns for a moment, looking back at Cas who has a serious look on his face.

“You’re not joining him?” Dean asks in confusion, and Cas shakes his head. He lifts up Dean’s hand towards his mouth and presses his lips onto them before pulling him into a tight hug.

“I want to stay with my husband, and try to find a way to save him,” Cas tells him gently, resting the palm of his hand on Dean’s face when he pulls away from the hug. There’s a faint smile on his lips as he says it, and for a moment Dean wonders how many times Cas and Sam have been talking about this behind Dean’s back. He’s not mad, though, understanding exactly why they’re doing it. Dean would do the same for them were the roles reversed.

“So what are your ideas?” Dean asks. Cas sighs and pulls out a piece of paper from the table, handing it to Dean. The hunter frowns for a moment, and then takes a look.

 

_ Ways to save Dean _

_~~Soul Bonding~~ _

_~~Offering my Grace~~ _

_God_

_Death_

_Reapers_

_~~Rowen~~ _

_Archangel?_

Dean shakes his head, trying to read through the crossed out words.

“Soul bonding? What’s that?” he asks, having never heard of it. Cas just shrugs and leans back against the table with his arms crossed.

“It’s the process of binding one soul to another, in which case as long as one of them lives, the other one lives, too.” Cas rubs at his nose for a moment and looks away. “There’s only one flaw in that theory.”

“And that is?”

“I don’t have a soul,” Cas answers shortly. “You can’t connect with Sam, either, because if you die, he’ll die, too. But I still have Grace inside of me, despite being almost human, I can’t die from anything so human, so you wouldn’t either.”

Dean feels a twitch of disappointment then. Of course, it’s not Cas’ fault for that plan failing. And looking at the next thing he wrote down, he doesn’t really know what to think either. Taking in Cas’ Grace? That sounds immensely dangerous. Dean’s body is maybe meant to contain an Angel, but he’s not meant to _be_ an Angel. Surely, he would just explode from the force of it, right?

God. Dean wonders why Cas didn’t scrap that off, either, seeing that the bastard’s the one behind this all anyway. God doesn’t care, like, at all. Dean doesn’t even feel like praying for help from him anymore. He wonders why Cas still would; the guy’s a deadbeat dad, an asshole who left all his children for no clear reason.

“Death, huh?” Dean mutters out when his eyes passes over the name. Cas might have a point there, but the last time they saw the guy, Death actually did them a favor and helped them get rid of the Leviathans. Dean’s not sure he would help them out one more time. They’ve been lucky with him so far, it’s better not to push it. And the next word, Reapers, isn’t giving much either. They serve under Death, and there’s no way they would go against his wishes. If it’s Dean’s time to go, it’s his time to go. They won’t second-guess it.

Dean decides not to even bring up Rowena. Obviously, Cas threw away the idea even before finishing the name. They locked up the woman in their dungeon for weeks, ignored her all that time and practically forbade her son to go and see her. Surely, she won’t be thrilled to help them out at all.

“And you’re looking for Gabriel because you think an Archangel can help us?” Dean thinks oud loud. Cas just nods but then sighs again.

“Sadly, we’ve ran out of Archangels,” Cas answers. “Except for Gabriel, which is why we have to find her.”

“Gabriel won’t help us,” Dean tells him, dropping the paper back down on the table. He then puts his hands on Cas’ hips and pulls him closer. “Listen, babe. We still have time. Right now, all I want is some delicious sex with my husband if that’s alright?”

“How can you want sex right now?” Cas asks, but sounding amused at the same time. Dean just shrugs with a smirk.

“I just ate chocolate, I heard it’s an aphrodisiac or whatever the word was,” he says, stealing a quick kiss from the Angel before pulling away. He takes Cas’ hand into his own and pulls him along with him, making his way to the hallway that leads to the bedroom.

They have time, they’ll find something…

Right?

 

* * *

 

 

_Spencer, Iowa  
A few hours later_

“Sam, it’s been a while,” Tracy’s young voice says as she wraps him in a hug. Sam only chuckles awkwardly, not really knowing where they’re standing right now. Last time they saw each other was when Gabriel attacked them, and after that he never really called her up. He’s only glad that she’s agreed to help him out here. “How have things been going?”

“Things are fine, you know; girlfriend left me, Dean’s dying again, Cas is human. Things couldn’t be better,” Sam tries to joke. Tracy raises her eyebrows upon hearing him, and immediately Sam regrets telling her all that. “Just forget it, it’s a long story.”

“No no no, girlfriend? Your brother’s dying? You can’t just throw all that on me and not expect me to ask questions; I’m a young adult, I have this instinctive curiosity,” Tracy answers. Sam just chuckles and shakes his head.

“It’s okay, we’re trying to figure something out,” Sam answers, dropping his hands in the pockets of his long black coat, shivering a bit when a cold breeze passes him by. He’s already dressed in his FBI uniform, and luckily, so is Tracy, all ready to go and ask some questions.

“Figuring out what? What to do with your girlfriend or what to do with your dying brother?” Tracy asks in confusion. When Sam smiles at her, she smiles right back before wrapping him in another hug. When her face is right next to his ear, she starts whispering to him. “But hey, if you need some more… distraction… I’m glad to offer it.”

Sam feels his face reddening and pulls away from her, clearing his throat and licking his lips.

“Thank you, Tracy, but I don’t think that’s necessary,” he tells her, feeling like it would be unfair towards Lauren to just jump into bed with Tracy again (still, though, the distraction might be nice). The younger woman just laughs and punches his arm. Then she nods towards the building they’re going to enter. In silence, they agree to just start with the case.

Janet Novoselic, the girl they’re interrogating, doesn’t seem to be willing to co-operate much, but eventually they do manage to get a few things out of her. As she continues talking about crazy cars, Sam can’t help but think that this would have been something better for Dean. One look at Tracy, and the sudden realization comes to him that he might not ever even get to hunt with his brother anymore. He can’t even remember what their last case together has been.

There’s a sting in his chest, and without realizing it his hand rests upon it. It doesn’t do much good, though, but Tracy does seem to notice it.

Tracy doesn’t mention it during the whole day when they’re researching different car impounds, trying to find where a pick-up truck has been brought the past few days. They end up with one result, luckily, so they move there immediately.

They find the car, they salt ‘n’ burn the damn thing, and then they find themselves back at the motel, getting ready to pack their bags. Sometimes hunts are just that easy, Sam figures as he removes his dirty shirt, filled with black spots from the smoke. He’s aware of Tracy looking at him, but he takes a deep breath to try and ignore it.

 _There’s no time for rebound_ , Sam tells himself repeatedly. It’s true that Lauren leaving him has left a hole in his chest that feels like it’s not really closing. It’s kind of weird, too, since at first he didn’t like Lauren, and in the end they were only together for about four months. It’s barely something, right? Sam’s sure that she isn’t even thinking about him all the way back from England.

He startles when Tracy’s hand suddenly goes over his back, and she presses herself closely to him. For a moment he wonders what would make her want the distraction so badly; surely something happened to her, too.

“Tracy, I don’t think…” Sam starts, but he doesn’t finish his sentence when the younger girl presses her lips on the skin of his back. She’s so much smaller than he is, so she can’t really reach his neck without standing on her toes.

“Tell me to stop,” Tracy whispers to him. Her hands hold on to his shoulders, and before Sam knows it he’s turned around, only to find a mostly-naked Tracy standing in front of him. His breath leaves him for a moment, and without really noticing it his tongue passes over his lower lip.

Why should he feel guilty, Sam figures. Lauren left him, no intention on coming back according to her words. He can’t blame her for it, either, but that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt. He feels hollow and empty, and it’s true; he could use the distraction.

When Sam’s hand comes to rest on Tracy’s cheek, he leans down to catch her lips into his own. The younger woman kisses right back enthusiastically, hands already opening Sam’s pants and dropping them down to the floor. With a smooth motion Sam walks out of them, putting his hands on the backs of Tracy’s upper legs and lifting her up from the floor.

Their lips never separate when Sam puts her down on the bed, and still not when he slowly takes off her panties. In a trained motion she pulls at his briefs as well, and it doesn’t take long until both of them are completely naked, hands in each other’s hair and bodies pressed close together.

When Sam called up the hunter, he never really thought he would end up in this exact same situation again. And after a few times with Lauren, it feels strangely good to finally be the one in control again. With Lauren it had always been at her own pace, her deciding what would happen and how it would go. Not that Sam complained about it at the time because he kind of liked that dominant part of Lauren.

It just feels so liberating, being in control again. Their breathing is synced, and their fingers are tangled together, and Sam’s grunts keep on getting louder the closer he gets to the finish. Tracy, on the other hand, is silent, letting go of Sam’s hand to put her fingers against his cheeks, and then pulling him in for another kiss.

If Sam’s thoughts are back on Lauren when he reaches his peak, nobody needs to know, right?

 

 

* * *

 

 

 _Meanwhile_  
Lebanon, Kansas, Men of Letter HQ  


When Dean wakes up again, he finds the place next to his empty. When his hand passes over it, though, he finds it still warm, meaning that Cas can’t be up for too long. Dean rolls over onto his back, staring right at the ceiling but not seeing much other than darkness. There are no windows in this building, and they turned off all the lights before going to sleep.

Dean has a slight idea of where Cas might be off to; he’s been all too enthusiastic yesterday when a proof of life from Gabriel has shown up, and while they were lying in bed Dean had tried to talk the Angel out of searching for him. He knows that he couldn’t convince him, and now he’s probably already getting ready to go out.

But heck if Dean is letting him go alone!

As quickly as he can, Dean gets himself dressed, throwing a few more clothes into his duffle bag and carrying it over his shoulder as he heads to the garage, deciding to skip breakfast in order for him to catch his husband.

As it turns out, he’s right on time, too. He’s only just leaning against the side of the Impala when Cas emerges from the hallway with silent steps, trying to close the door behind him silently. Dean just crosses his arms and shakes his head the moment Cas catches him standing there.

“Dean?” Cas asks with his hand still on the doorknob. His duffle bag is put down on the ground, and his mouth has fallen open.

“Yeah, no, the last time you went out alone you ended up as a teenager,” Dean tells him. He’s unable to hold back the smirk when he gets a glare in return.

“Dean we agreed-“ Cas starts, but Dean puts his hand in the air to silence him.

“Not a hunt, just a search,” the hunter responds, quickly shrugging as if it’s not that big of a deal. “There’s a difference there, babe.”

Cas just sighs and then shrugs as well, picking his bag up again and moving closer to Dean, who is already going to take place in the driver’s seat. They remain quiet while Dean drives the Impala out of the garage, and there’s a silent arrangement when Cas gets out of the car to lock up the building behind them. Dean checks his map to see which direction he needs to go.

“Fayetteville, this right?” Dean asks when Cas gets back into the car. The Angel fishes out his cellphone and checks Charlie’s message, only to agree with him. Then Dean nods, puts away the map, and starts driving away from the bunker, his hand reaching out for Cas’ and tangling their fingers together.

It’s easy to just pretend that this is a simple and innocent holiday; that they’re just on their way to a road trip with just the two of them, without all these issues following him. And Dean is at the verge of just suggesting to head out, to just take a few days, weeks, to get back to themselves at least while they still can.

But he knows that, as long as Dean is still dying, Cas will refuse.

By the time the night falls again, their hands have let go of each other and Cas is again with his nose behind the screen of his cellphone. Dean can say for sure that the secrecy is not because he’s watching porn or anything, but he wonders why Cas is trying to be so sneaky about it in the first place.

Without warning him he picks the phone out of Cas’ hands and throws it to the backseat, ignoring the sound of protest coming from his husband.

“C’mon babe, don’t try to tiptoe around it. I know you’re trying to find a cure, why all the cloak and dagger about it?” Dean asks without removing his eyes from the road. He catches a sign for a motel nearby and decides it’s about time to stop for the night.

“I don’t-“ Cas starts, but Dean just shakes his head.

“Look, man, you’ve checked every website about this kind of thing. You’ve checked it twice, even,” Dean sighs and bites his lower lip for a moment. “There has been nothing like this before, Cas. Your _father_ wants for this to happen, the Angels aren’t planning on bringing me back. Maybe I’m just not supposed to survive this.”

“I won’t accept that,” Cas says darkly, hands balling into fists and his nostrils flaring in anger. Dean shakes his head in denial. What can his Angel possibly do here? What can any of them really do?

“Cas, listen… when we work a case, there’s always that… that point… where we have to face the truth,” Dean starts, gripping the steering wheel a bit tighter as they pass another sign for the motel. “Even when we don’t like it.”

“What truth?” Cas asks bitterly, but Dean’s sure that the Angel knows what he means.

“You told me so once, yourself,” Dean says, finally looking to the side and seeing the Angel sitting there next to him, looking irritated and hurt. “You can’t save everyone, though you’ll try;”

Cas then looks down again, probably recalling the words he himself spoke a few days after escaping Purgatory himself. Their situations had been reversed, where Dean had been angry at Cas for risking his life like that.

“Truth is,” Dean starts, pointing towards his swollen belly, “there’s no way around this that will result in the three of us walking out of it. And I’m not happy about it because I get to carry these brats and not even hold them! But Cas, babe, I got to move on.”

Their eyes finally connect then, and suddenly the expression on Cas’ face looks that much different, as if he’s more… understanding. His hand immediately goes back to the middle, and Dean lifts his own one from the steering wheel to tangle their fingers again. Quickly he lifts them up to lightly kiss Cas’ knuckles.

“We’ll see what finding Gabriel will do for us, but please don’t get your hopes up, okay?”

Cas nods lightly, a faint smile appearing on his lips, even though it’s not a real convincing one.

“Okay, Dean,” Cas tells him.

Dean doesn’t believe him. And he’s going to get cruched when they’ll get their answer from the Archangel.

 

* * *

 

 

_Meanwhile, Spencer, Iowa_

So, they figured another teenage girl getting strangled by a simple cable means that, no, the hunt is not over.

Sam doesn’t really know how to feel about knowing that, while he was having rebound sex with a girl that much younger than him, another young girl died in her bedroom, probably scared to shit. But, as it seems, Tracy, too, seems to have mixed feelings about it, almost unable to walk into the building to check up on the crime scene. (Though she doesn’t seem _too_ caught up about it because her eyes wander around and rest on some of the other students passing by and admiring them with appreciation. Sam doesn’t really feel bothered about that, knowing that it’s nothing serious between them in the first place.)

When they find themselves in the girl’s dorm, the only thing they’re told is that there’s no suspect, much as Sam could have guessed. But, at least, the officer seems to trust them enough to hand them the passwords of all of Julie’s things, including her disturbingly pink laptop, especially after the device ended up high on the EMF radar Tracy brought along.

Okay, no, so Sam snatched the laptop along when nobody was looking, and Tracy managed to listen to all the passwords when the detective was going through them again when they tried to unlock her phone.

After a quick talk with Julie’s friend Delilah – who they’ve interviewed earlier, too, but never seems too keen on giving much information despite how hard they press on the importance of it – Sam and Tracy take a seat in the cafeteria to fill their stomachs with food and drinks. Tracy even looks young enough not to be suspicious in there as she orders food for the both of them. Sam doesn’t, though, so until Tracy comes to sit down with him again, a few students look at him in mild interest and confusion, probably wondering if he’s a new teacher, or maybe one of those really old students.

That, of course, or it could be the flashy pink laptop he has on the table in front of him.

“Allllllrirght fancypants, here’s your café au lait,” Tracy’s voice suddenly says, and Sam’s eyes are diverted from the screen when suddenly a cup of coffee gets dropped down next to his hand. Sam then looks up, trying to see what she’s gotten herself, only to realize that, no, she isn’t _that_ much different from Dean on this part, either.

“And for you a future heart-attack?” Sam jokes, looking at three plates filled with extremely greased food. Once again Sam gets that flinch of disgust when he realizes that he literally slept twice with a girl that in the end keeps on reminding him of Dean, and his mind should really stop wandering there for crying out loud.

“Hey, I’m a growing girl, I need things that makes me grow into a big, big girl,” Tracy says, swinging her fork around and actually managing on slinging a drop of grease on his cheek.

“You’re twenty-three, there’s not much growing going to happen for you, anymore,” Sam mutters out dryly, and Tracy raises her eyebrows, looking quite unimpressed at his answer.

“For your information, I turned twenty-four in January,” she corrects him, and Sam wants to smash his face against the keyboard when he realizes that having their birthday in the first month of the year is also something Dean and Tracy have in common. When will this nightmare end?

“Apologies, your majesty,” Sam counters while taking his first taste of the coffee. “Anyway, I’m afraid I’m getting a lot of nada here. Julie was on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Instachat, Snapchat, A.I.M., but she mostly just posts stuff on Rush and ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’, the movie.”

“Wow, she not on Tumblr?” Tracy asks with her mouth full. Sam rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

“I guess I’ll just have to check up on her deleted files,” Sam says, ignoring her comment. When he sees Tracy’s confused look at that, Sam frowns at her. “You do know that nothing ever really gets deleted from the Internet, right?”

“Damn, I hope that if I die, nobody finds all my saved WinterIron fanfictions,” Tracy mutters with a slight worried face Sam doesn’t know is fake or not.

“What?”

“You know, The Winter Soldier and Iron man? Everybody’s like, all the way for Steve and Bucky, or Steve and Tony, but, like, how can you not even think about Bucky and Tony? They sound just perfect together!”

Sam frowns again, and repeats his question. “What?”

“Know your movies, sasquatch,” Tracy throws back with a grin.

Sam rolls his eyes once more, and then gets back to the screen, finally finding something interesting enough that might help them forward. He turns the screen towards Tracy, who is still busy eating her noodles with much passion.

“Check this, it’s a deleted Instachat conversation, right about the time she died I would say,” Sam tells her. The younger hunter’s eyes pass over the conversation as she reads it through.

“PrincessElsa8? Somebody liked ‘Frozen’ a bit too much,” Tracy says with her mouth full. “Liar, I know, You’ll pay… at least we can say this crazy bitch is an actual bitch.” Sam nods at that.

“I’m just wondering what 810 means here, though,” Sam says, more thinking out loud than actually talking to her. “Could be a date?”

“Or a time of day? Area code?”

“It’s not an area code,” Sam says after a few seconds of looking it up. Then he goes further into his search. “But there are three addresses in Spencer that have 810 in them.”

“Alright, after my food’s done we’ll check it out,” Tracy says, taking a big bite from one of the two big pizza pieces she brought along. “But first, tell me about that girlfriend of yours?”

Sam sighs, hating the fact that she’s been asking that question for the past two days now.

“I already told you, there’s no girlfriend to talk about, Tracy,” Sam responds, not really wanting to think back to Lauren, who is probably still all the way in England with her parents. It’s not that Dean tells him much about her, anyway.

“But you wish there was, right?” Tracy asks. Damn, does this girl not have a filter at all?

“Listen, Tracy, I don’t want to talk about her. I screwed up, she left, it’s simple as that,” Sam says, slamming the laptop shut. Tracy lifts up her hands in some sort of surrender, eyebrows raising high and mouth slightly fallen open.

“Dude, relax, you don’t want to talk, fine I get it,” Tracy gets out quickly. She pushes her plate to the side and leans back in her seat, putting a hand on her stomach and letting out a long breath. “Let’s check those addresses out, then, we’ll see what we can find.”

And finally, Sam can agree on that.

 

* * *

 

 

_Meanwhile, in Fayetteville_

Cas in a suit is something Dean will never tire of seeing. Sadly, though, having to dress up as agents means that Dean, too, needs to dress up all classy. Luckily he can use the pregnancy and his hurting ankles as a reason not to be wearing high heels, but he did have to go to a maternity-shop to find pants that fit his freaking uniform.

Cas had smirked while Dean tried things on, but eventually they stumbled upon some stretchy pants, and with that they’re on their way to the police station, holding the camera-picture Charlie sent them, showing Gabriel standing there sucking on what would probably be another lollipop.

There seems to be some sort of party going on when they get there. There’s cake, a few of the officers are filling in their glasses with what seems like cheap champagne, and Dean wouldn’t be too surprised if one of them would suddenly start wearing a party-hat.

“Agents, I gather,” a man, probably the Sheriff, asks when they get to the reception desk.

“Uh, was it the suits, or do we give off some sort of a Fed stench?” Dean asks jokingly, realizing a bit too late that he’s not really wearing a suit. But, hey, it’s the thought that counts, right?

The Sheriff laughs a bit while dropping his plate on the desk. “It’s the suits. What can I do for you two?”

Dean fishes out the picture of Gabriel and hands it to the Sheriff, letting the man take it over to take a good look. “We’re looking for this girl, it’s for a case, and last known location has been right here in Fayetteville, so we figured we’d ask around.”

The Sheriff stays quiet for a moment as he takes a long look. Then he shakes his head, handing the picture over to another cop standing behind him and asking him to pass it around and see if anybody recognizes her.

“Sorry, I haven’t seen that girl around here before. What’d she do?”

“I’m sorry but that’s classified,” Cas says firmly from next to Dean. The hunter rolls his eyes and gives him a slight punch in his side.

“We got reasons to believe she’s involved in one of our cases, but she’s been on the road for a while now,” Dean clarifies. Meanwhile, the picture finds its way back into Dean’s hand, and he puts it back in his pocket.

“Well, best to ask around in the shop she’s been sighted in. You want some cake?” The Sheriff points towards the chocolate pastry next to Dean, and immediately his stomach makes a happy jump at the idea of eating this. Cas gives Dean a short look, and then just shrugs. If Dean wants cake, who is he to stop him, right?

So, it isn’t long until Dean is holding a plate of his own in his hand, and is happily taking bites from the food and more often than not offering Cas some, too. The Angel always refuses at first, but after the fifth or so try, he does open his mouth to try it out. While Cas is chewing, Dean then turns once more towards the Sheriff.

“What’s the occasion?” he asks, having cleared his mouth before talking. The sheriff just shrugs.

“We just finished another case. Special Forces officer killed another private. His fingerprints were all over the storage room out on the base where he did it. He even left his dog tags by the body.” The sheriff looks a bit disturbed about it, but obviously relieved that it’s solved, still.

“So, the guy’s in custody, then?” Dean asks. The sheriff shakes his head.

“No, bastard drank a boatload of gasoline, then lit himself on fire,” is the answer. Dean frowns and shares a quick look with Cas to make clear to him that there’s something fishy about that. Cas looks confused at first, but then makes an exasperated look when he understands.

“Well, that’s a hell of a way to go,” Dean reacts to it. The Sheriff nods quickly and looks a bit sad right then.

“No kidding. Left a wife and baby. Third suicide we’ve seen in six months. Military town…”

All in all together, six months is quite a wide spread to consider three suicides much, but when it’s such a small town, things like that might appear a bit strange. It’s one of these places where everybody knows everybody.

While Dean props another piece of cake in his husband’s mouth, he drops the now-empty plate. “Were there any bite marks found on the body?”

The sheriff frowns, but then shakes his head, probably wondering what stupid question that it. Still, Dean needs to be sure about it. “No, vic was killed with a bowie,” is the answer. Then Dean nods, thanks the sheriff, and pulls his husband out of the building. He doesn’t follow as quickly, though, instead swapping the name and address from the suicide case without anybody noticing before following his husband out. Just to not look too suspicious he takes another paper plate and puts a piece of cake on it, walking outside and earning an eyeroll from Cas.

“We should check out the diner Gabriel was seen in,” Cas says while they’re walking to the car. Dean stops in his track, offering his husband a surprised look.

“Cas, something’s going on here and you’re just going to ignore it?”

“Dean, three suicides in six months. That’s not that unusual you know,” Cas answers bitterly, now standing still as well but crossing his arms, making it clear that he’s willing to pick a fight about this.

“It is when the guy Molotov-cocktailed himself,” Dean defends his case. “That’s bonkers, more like demon-possession bonkers.” How would Cas know, even? He hasn’t been on as many hunts as Dean has. He doesn’t understand a sign when he sees one.

But, then again, Cas is an Angel. Maybe he does know better, right?

“You know as well as anybody that there aren’t any more demons on Earth, Dean,”

“Cas!” Dean finds himself shouting, not really knowing where this sudden outburst came from. Quickly, he tries to calm his heart, sending a quick message to the twins that things are fine, that there’s no danger. Dean needs to control his temper or he’s going to end up hurting someone.

“Dean, I know, okay? I find it suspicious, too, but we agreed you wouldn’t be hunting anymore,” Cas says with a saddened voice. Dean sighs loudly, taking a few steps towards his husband in sudden need of contact, finding it the only way for him to calm down the twins.

“We could just… interview the wife, see if there’s something fishy?” Dean tries. Interviewing someone is an innocent task, right? Nothing much could happen there, and that way, they can be sure.

“But what if there ends up _being_ a case?” Cas asks. Dean hates how pained his voice sounds right now, so he puts his hand on his husband’s face and stares him right in the eyes.

“We take care of it as quickly as possible,” Dean tells him calmly. He leans forward to give him a quick kiss, and then pulls his head away again. “I have to do this. It feels wrong not doing anything, and I’m not letting you go alone.”

They stare at each other for a long time before Cas finally sighs and lowers his eyes, finally agreeing with Dean. The hunter can’t help but wrap his arms around Cas and put a hand behind his head. It’s a way to comfort him, to tell him that things will be fine. The Angel just wraps his own arms around Dean’s waist and pulls him closer to his body.

“This is the last time, Dean,” Cas tells him, trying to make Dean promise. Dean wants to pull out the dying-card, to tell him that he won’t be able to hunt anymore afterwards, but then he realizes that isn’t really fair to him. Besides, even is Dean would have survived, could he still live with himself as a hunter when he has two sons at home? The last thing he wants is to become like his own father.

“I promise,” he tells him then, at last. They kiss again, this time long and deep, and neither of them seem willing to let go until Dean’s phone goes off and they pull away. Together they walk back to the car, and Dean answers the moment he sees it’s Sam calling him.

“Yeah?” he asks.

“ _Dean, how’s it at the bunker?”_ Sam asks, sounding a bit out of breath. Dean checks his watch, seeing that it’s already past noon. So _that’s_ why his stomach is feeling empty. Maybe he shouldn’t have fed his whole cake to his husband.

“Eh, we’re actually in Fayetteville,” Dean reveals to him, giving Cas a short look and then throwing him the keys to the car, making Cas’ eyes go wide as Dean offers him to drive. On the other side of the line there’s a long silence before Sam continues.

“ _Dean, what are you doing in Fayetteville?”_ Sam asks cautiously. Dean snorts.

“Chill, bro, we’re looking for Gabriel,” Dean says, but then remembering that right now they aren’t, really. Should he tell him? "But we kind of stumbled upon a hunt, so we’ll check it out, try to make it quick.”

“ _Dean are you crazy?!”_ Sam literally shouts on the other side. “ _Don’t you remember last time you went on a hunt?”_

Dean does, but then again how could he forget? He messed up big time back then, had that big fight with Cas for about four days, and then ended up puking on the highway because of all the pressure he was suddenly feeling.

“Sam, Cas agreed on it. Besides, we’re not sure if it’s really something. We’re just checking and if it’s too big we’ll give you a call, okay?” He can imagine the sour face his brother is making at that, and almost wishes he could see it. Instead he sets himself down in the passenger seat, puts a hand on Cas’ shoulder and squeezes him a bit in reassurance. It’s a silent message of ‘drive’.

“ _Uh, well, as long as you stay safe and call me whenever things go bad, it’s alright I guess,”_ Sam says, but sounding unsure about it. Dean snorts at his brother’s comment, and then puts his hand on Cas’ leg while the Angel drives.

The rest of the phone call is filled with Dean asking Sam how his own hunt is going, but eventually they hang up the moment Cas parks the car in front of that Rick Willis guy who burned himself to death.

When they ring at the door, they introduce themselves to the woman holding her baby. She then in turn introduces herself as Beth, and offers them to get inside to continue the conversation in the kitchen. She sits down on one of the high stool on one side of the island, and Dean and Cas take place across from her.

“Rick did it, I’m not trying to say that he didn’t,” Beth starts explaining when Cas asks her about it. She still has tears in her eyes, and she’s continuously rocking her baby who seems to be extremely awake and not even distressed about it. That’s normal, though; the kid is too young for that. “But… I mean, he just got back from deployment, and we’ve all seen what it can do to a soldier’s mind.”

Dean nods, understanding too how the war changed his father back in the day. He can’t help but bite his lip upon seeing this woman crying like that in front of him. For some reason he’s starting to breathe deeper and louder, almost as if he’s trying to keep himself from crying as well. Cas notices, and without Beth seeing it he puts his hand upon Dean’s belly, comforting both Dean and the twins.

“My Rick, when he’s home and good… I have to kill the spiders, you know? He was a kind soul, never took more life than he had to.” Beth looks back to her baby for a moment, trying to avert her face from the two strange agents. Dean can understand that, and he can’t help the fond look when the baby is staring right at him with open eyes and mouth.

“Was there anything strange that you noticed about your husband Mrs. Willis?” Cas asks politely, pulling his hand away again and resting them on top of the counter. “Something weird like possible mood swings, weird smells…?”

Damn, Cas even manages to ask this question without it sounding too weird even. Dean can’t help but feel proud at the Angel next to him, but he holds back his smile, feeling that it might be slightly inappropriate to be smirking like that next to a grieving woman.

“No, but… Rick was so… I don’t know, thirsty?” Beth doesn’t really seem sure about this, probably wondering how it could matter. Still, Dean isn’t sure if it’s valuable information.

“Thirsty for what?” Cas asks in confusion.

“Water. He’d spend half the day drinking from the garden hose,” Beth starts. “And then, one night, I caught him in the tub drinking the bathwater. When I told him to stop it was like he couldn’t even hear me. And his skin, it got so dry it bled.”

“Did he see a doctor?” Because that’s about the first thing one would do, right?

“I took him to the V.A., but he just got on a list to get on a list. And then, he stopped talking…” Beth bites her lip again as she turns to look at her baby once more. “He just wasn’t himself. I thought maybe it was PTSD.”

“We’re very sorry, Mrs. Willis,” Cas says when she takes another deep breath to hold back her tears. She nods at him in acknowledgement, but what exactly can words do to her right now? “You told us earlier that your husband was deployed, recently. Do you have any idea where?”

All Mrs. Willis does is deny that, explaining that that stuff is classified and even she doesn’t know where. Instead, she passes them the name of a friend of hers whose husband is going through the same changes right now, and right then the two seem to understand that there really _is_ something going on here.

They spend the rest of the afternoon interviewing the other woman – Jemma – who at first keeps on insisting that everything’s fine, but eventually breaks and admits that things, in fact, are _not_ fine. When they ask if her husband Kit has been getting thirstier by any chance, she seems surprised that they even knew that.

But then they get interrupted by a knock on the door, and Jemma jumps out of her chair, obviously expecting her husband on the other side. Dean and Cas remain seated, having a good enough view of the door to see the woman letting in another man – one that doesn’t match the picture of this Kit – and then nodding towards them. The man follows her when she goes to rejoin them.

“Agents, this is Cole Trenton, he’s a friend off Kit’s,” she introduces them. The man holds out his hand  towards Dean first, and then Cas.

“That your cars out front? It’s quite a beauty,” he asks Cas.

“She’s mine, actually, but thanks,” Dean corrects him. The man’s eyes widen for a moment, and his mouth falls open, but he quickly regains himself.

“Right, what seems to be the problem, agents?” he asks, resting his hands on his hips. He frowns for a moment when his eyes land on Dean’s belly, but then he looks away again. Still, Dean caught that.

“We’re looking in the case of Mr. Willis, trying to find if there’s something related here,” Cas explains quietly. Dean doesn’t really like this Cole-guy. He somehow feels like a bitter man, untrusting and ready for a fight all of the time.

“I’ve known Kit since we were military brats raisin’ Hell on the same base. He’s a good man,” Cole says, sounding defensively right away. Meanwhile, Jemma mutters something about getting a drink and then walks away, leaving them alone in her living room

“We never said he wasn’t,” Dean throws back, voice snappier than he’d realized. Cas shoves him lightly in his side to shut him up. “We just need to be sure that, whatever got to Willis didn’t get to Kit, too, when they were deployed.”

Cas then rolls his eyes and turns his face away. Okay, Dean should probably indeed learn to shut his mouth.

“Aren’t the CDC better equipped for that, then?” Cole counters. Dean mouth falls open to return something, but then he stops himself. Cas is right, he’s only going to make it worse like this.

Then Cole sighs as well, shaking his head a little bit and licking his lips. “Look, I’m sorry, I’m being an ass. It’s true, Kit hasn’t been the same, but he’s my friend, you know?”

Cas nods, and Dean tries to do the same despite his heavy dislike for this guy already.

“Listen, I got contacts in Military Intelligence, a guy there owes me a favor. If you want, I can get you some intel on Kit’s mission?”

And that’s how they end up at another diner, this time with this Cole-guy who is phoning around and searching through his laptop – they got the Wi-Fi-code from the waitress. Dean is enjoying his burger a bit too loudly for Cas’ taste, apparently, because after a while the Angel picks it out of his hand and drops it back on the plate.

“What the hell?” Dean reacts, “You know Linda won’t let me eat anything at home, let me enjoy my burger damnit!”

Cas just rolls his eyes and turns back to Cole, who is staring at them observingly. The phone is dropped on the table, apparently the call finished.

“So how long you been married?” he asks after Dean picks his burger back up.

“About eight months,” Cas says a bit proudly. His hand comes to rest on Dean’s leg underneath the table, but Dean notices how Cas throws him a fond look. With his mouth full, he throws one back, making Cas laugh a little bit at the image.

“Congratulations, then,” Cole says, smiling a bit as well. “I remember when my wife was pregnant. Couldn’t stop eating then, too.”

“Dean has always been a big eater, I guess he’s just more… impatient now,” Cas clarifies jokingly. Dean throws him a glare, and after that, the conversation falls quiet again. Then there’s a sound coming from Cole’s laptop, making the three of them look up again.

“Here we go, I got an encrypted e-mail here from my friend at the M.I.,” Cole says after clicking a bit on his screen.

“And?” Dean asks impatiently.

“Well, Kit and Rick were sent to rescue an American P.O.W. being held in Iraq… The Najaf Cemetery,” Cole explains. To him it probably all sounds normal, but to Dean it’s more Chinese than anything else.

“Cemetery?” he asks.

“Bastards use them as some kind of prison,” Cole explains. “I got some footage here from the camera on Willis’ helmet during his last mission with Kit.”

And with that he turns around the laptop so the three of them can look at the sceen when he presses the play button of the video. The image is in night-vision, and it’s unsharp, but clear enough for Dean to process what exactly is happening here.

In the end, the soldier they were meant to rescue ended up attacking them in a none-too-gentle way. The video has a lot of shouting, coming from both Willis and Kit, and eventually there are some gunshot sounds and the soldier falls down to the ground.

“I’m guessing that didn’t have a happy ending,” Dean adds, trying to lighten the mood a little bit. Cole shakes his head then and starts searching around on his laptop some more.

“No it did not,” he says, frowning even more now. Dean wonders if they are letting him know too much here? “Mission failed. And that P.O.W. got shot by guards. Or at least that’s the official story.”

They end up recapitulating what exactly they already have, but limiting the facts to things that wouldn’t end up with Cole knowing about the supernatural. It isn’t easy, though, and really limits their work ground.

Eventually, because of Dean setting his phone to get local alerts, they are made aware that there has been another murder in a local gas’n’Sip. When they get there it’s quite a messed up sight, too. The officers explain them that the murderer – a man they’ve failed to identify so far – actually licked up his victim’s blood off the floor. So, this thirst is a real recurring theme they should really look at more closely.

They get a few more details from the soda jockey who had seen everything happen, and after the description of the murderer, Cole’s face turns sour. Eventually his own cellphone starts ringing and he turns away to answer. Dean then takes Cas to the side.

“What the hell kind of creature has an incredible thirst and anger issues?” Dean asks in a whisper. He’s not really happy to see Cas shrug and shakes his head in return. If it’s a monster Cas doesn’t recognize, it probably means it’s something new. Dean _hates_ new monsters. Where do they keep coming from?

“So, what, dehydrated ghost? Cursed object?” he tries then, but Castiel just sighs.

“EMF was negative when I checked the place out earlier. Cursed object might be possible but where do we even start looking for it?” He puts a finger on his forehead and looks down, eyes closed. Dean wonders if he’s getting a headache; Maybe they should rest for the night, get a motel or something?

They make their way back to the car in silence, and Cas already gets inside. Dean waits, though, until Cole is finished with his call. He might not really like that guy all that much, but he’s not going to leave him here all alone with no way to get home.

“Hey, Kung-Fu grip, you coming?” Dean asks loudly, knowing very well that he’s disturbing the phone conversation. Cole turns around and nods, saying a few more words before ending his call and walking back to them.

“Sorry, Jemma just needed to talk,” he says, but Dean knows the guy isn’t telling them everything. Still, Dean doesn’t really care. The sooner he’s out of here, the better him and Cas can continue their work here.

“So, Cas and I are going in for the night. You got some place we can drop you off?” Dean asks. Cole nods and sits in the backseat with a hard look on his face. Dean takes in the address he’s given, and then turns the car around to bring them to their destination.

The goodbye is short. Cole thanks them for the lift, and then he asks them to find a way to _save_ Kit. Dean tries to keep an even look upon that, knowing full well he can’t promise this at all.

“We will try,” Cas says to him instead, which is a better answer than Dean could have come up with. After driving away, Cas is a bit surprised when Dean suddenly drives right beside some bushes and kills the lights.

“What are you doing, Dean?” Cas asks curiously. Dean simply shrugs.

“I don’t trust this guy, I think he knows some things we don’t,” he admits. Cas stares at him for a long time before seemingly taking another breath.

“You don’t trust him? Or the twins don’t?” Cas asks carefully. Dean turns his head towards him with an obvious look of confusion on his face. Does… does Cas not trust him?

Before Dean can answer him, Cole does it for him instead, marching into his truck and leaving the house they dropped him off at. Dean wants to gloat for a moment, point out that he was _right_ , but there’s this stinging feeling in his chest upon the idea that his husband is so weary of Dean at the moment. True, Dean can’t blame him really, but somehow he had really hoped that Cas would not be… scared of him.

Without another word Dean follows Cole, keeping his lights off on purpose. Cas is frowning the whole way with his arms crossed, and silently Dean is hoping that he’s feeling guilty.

They follow Cole for a twenty whole minutes before the truck comes to a stop, and Dean and Cas wait until the guy is inside before getting out as well. Dean doesn’t speak a word, instead reaching for the trunk. It’s Cas who’s running inside the moment they hear a sound inside.

“Cas, wait!” Dean calls out, reaching out for him but missing him. Quickly he grabs the nearest gun and follows after his husband inside the cabin. There’s a faint light shining inside, but it’s still quite dark. Dean’s heart is beating so fast that it almost feels like it’s going to jump out. He needs to calm down immediately before things go bad again.

And then, when he finds Cas pushing Cole aside, he can only see his husband get into the grip of Kit, pushed against the table and dropping what seems like a worm from his mouth right into Cas’.

“CAS!” Dean shouts loudly, running towards the two figures and pushing Kit away with all the force he can manage – which isn’t a lot since all the muscles in his body have slowly disappeared. Kit barely moves from his attempt, but eventually he runs out of the cabin, leaving the three of them alone.

“Oh my God! Something went down his THROAT!” Cole shouts, looking shocked. Dean is literally fuming by then, hands balled into fists and teeth sinking into his lower lip. The moment Cole stands up, Dean smashes his fist against his face, throwing him a punch that could have been that much stronger once upon a time. Cole probably only stumbles back down from the sudden outburst rather than the force of Dean’s blow.

“YOU IDIOT!” Dean snaps, slowly feeling himself snapping but trying everything in his power to keep himself in check. It wouldn’t do good to kill somebody on his very last hunt ever, even if that somebody is this freaking asshole.

“Dean,” Cas breathes out, reaching out for the hunter in an attempt to calm him down. Dean immediately pulls back and kneels down next to his husband, who is now lying on the ground, looking a bit pale in the face. “I can feel it.”

“Cas, babe, we’ll figure it out, we’ll-“ he starts, but he can’t continue when an actual sob leaves his mouth instead. He hadn’t realized he was crying until then.

“What was that thing?” Cole asks, still sounding a bit out of breath. Cas sits up a little bit, leaning his back against the wall behind him. He takes a few deep gulps of air before opening his eyes again, staring right at Dean with a calm expression.

“Probably a Khan worm,” Dean answers after a few seconds, recalling what he and Sam called that disgusting thing that got control over him, Bobby and Samuel a few years ago. It’s one of Eve’s freaky new monsters, surprisingly still alive. Dean thought that they killed the only one.

“What’s a Khan worm?” Cole asks in confusion. Cas tries to sit up again for a moment, but immediately looks like he’s about to puke it all out again, so Dean pushes him back against the wall.

“You, stay still,” Dean orders him. “A couple of years back my brother and I worked a case,” Dean then starts to explain, trying his very best to calm his heart down. “We got stuck in a cannery with this thing. It would get into people’s bodies and… well, let’s just say the experience was awful.”

Cas looks at him with hopeless eyes, already reaching out his hand to put it on Dean’s cheek. The hunter allows it for a few seconds before pulling away again.

“Alright, so you’ve been to this rodeo before. How do we kill it?” Cole asks. Dean just sighs.

“Worst case, headshot the person it’s in. Worm crawls out, we stomp it like a bug,” Dean reveals. “But then again we’re not shooting my husband, so plan B is electrocution, makes the worm leave the body.”

Cas smiles at Dean, but it’s only faint. His head tips to the side in some sort of exhaustion, which worries Dean a little bit.  “I think I’ll go with the electrocution,” the Angel says.

“Sure,” Dean says, squeezing his hand after grabbing it. Then he turns back to Cole and hands him his cellphone. “Call Sam, he’s the first on the speed dial. Tell him Cas’ been hit by a Khan worm and that we’re working to get it out of him, but that we might need assistance.”

“Assistance? I can help plenty?” Cole asks, but Dean shakes his head.

“There’s so much you still don’t know. Don’t ask questions, just do it,” he returns. He stands up again, intending to go to the car to get some of the materials he needs for the electrocution. He hates himself already for having to do this like this, but he has no other choice, really.

He doesn’t even notice Cole leaving them as he makes his phone call, his eyes only resting on the Angel lying on the floor next to him. Dean finds his fingers brushing the wild strands of hair from his husband’s face.

“This is going to hurt like a son of a bitch,” Dean tells him, bringing him useless news since Cas is already aware of this. The Angel just smiles at him and takes his hand into his own, squeezing his fingers a bit before sighing.

“I’m sure I’ve been through worse,” he answers. Then he leans forward to steal a quick kiss, but changes his mind immediately, pulling back once more and getting some distance between them. Dean can understand why, but that doesn’t mean that he likes it.

Eventually, Dean gets out to prepare his stuff, pulling out a car battery from his trunk along some jumper cables, and making his way back inside. He passes along Cole on his path, and finds him just hanging up.

“Your brother says he’s on his way, and that his case is just finished. I can go check on Kit if you want, try and slow him down while you prepare your husband for the procedure?” Cole tries. Dean feels tempted to just let him go, but wonders only briefly if that’s the best thing he can do right now. By now, the Khan worm is no longer inside of Kit, right? So that means that he should get back to his own self soon enough, hopefully?

But Dean can’t risk it, and besides; this guy is military. He’s trained for hand-to-hand combat and can probably manage on his own for a little hour.

Yet, no, it still feels wrong to let the guy go on alone as long, and using these shockers on Cas can’t take more than a few minutes.

“Just wait for a few moments, and then Cas and I can help you out,” Dean tells him, but then Cole comes to stand in front of him with his arms crossed and a raised eyebrow.

“Excuse me, not to be rude here, but how am I supposed to feel safer with a skinny pregnant lady and a guy who looks like he’s about to fall into coma?”

Dean sighs for a moment, wondering how it ever came to this? He wants to answer the guy, to tell him that he doesn’t really have any choice in the matter, but then there’s a sound from inside the cabin, and Dean recognizes Cas calling out for him.

“Just wait a sec,” Dean tells him, and he storms back inside with his stuff still in his hands. Once he’s inside he can see Cas standing with what looks like a glass of water in his hands, lips wet from the hasty drinking of it. Dean’s eyes widen for a moment when he notices the Angel is out of breath.

“I’m so thirsty, Dean,” Cas says miserably. So it’s already starting, Dean realizes. He puts the car battery down, connects the cables to it, and takes a deep breath.

“Then we should get that asshole out of you,” he answers. Cas nods, dropping the glass with clear reluctance, and sitting down in the chair in front of Dean. He then quickly grabs his hands and holds on tightly, staring him right in the eyes.

“I love you so much, Dean,” Cas then says before leaning forward and pressing their foreheads together, once again wisely keeping his lips away from Dean’s.

“Yeah yeah, you can tell me when I get that son of a bitch out of you,” Dean returns, feeling his face flush a little bit, which is quite a normal reaction for him each time Cas tells him the three words. He undoes Cas’ belt and puts the thing between the Angel’s teeth, and then lifts up the arm sleeves of his coat to bare his arms.

Cas already closes his eyes when Dean fishes out the cable, and then he presses the things against his arms. Cas immediately stiffens, making a painful sound and balling his hands into fists as the electricity comes running through his body. When the first tear starts to roll out of his eyes, Dean pulls back, quickly checking the Angel’s ears but finding none of the black goo.

“Do it again,” Cas breathes out after a few seconds of searching. Dean complies with full reluctance, shocking him once again, now for even a longer time. The sounds coming out of Cas’ mouth are really not comforting right now, and Dean can’t stop the chills going through him at the moment.

“Alright that sucker should have crawled out by now,” Dean mutters, more to himself than to Cas.

“Again, Dean,” Cas urges on. Dean shakes his head.

“I keep going, this is gonna kill you,” he tells him, hoping that Cas would catch the hint. He would rather not kill his husband tonight, thank you very much.

“Again!”

And so Dean does, this time looking away as the shocking starts once more. Cas now literally starts screaming, arching his back from the couch and gritting his teeth together. Dean’s heart starts beating even faster from it, feeling like puking with each sound Cas makes.

But then the Angel’s completely silent, and so Dean pulls his arms back, dropping the cables to the ground and opening his eyes again, only to find Cas lying there with his eyes closed and apparently, no longer breathing.

“Cas?” Dean asks, pressing his fingers against Cas’ neck to search for a pulse, only to find none. This wasn’t supposed to happen, he thinks, grabbing Cas’ shoulders to shake him around, hoping to wake him.

“Cas, come on!” Dean shouts, slapping the Angel’s chest in the hope that his heart will start again. His punches are hard, surely going to leave a bruise, but it doesn’t seem to work at all. “Don’t do this, Cas!”

And then, after the fifth punch, Cas gasps out for breath, eyes open wide and his whole body sitting upright as if he just woke up from a bad dream.

“Oh, that was unpleasant,” Cas says in that typical way of his, and Dean leans back again, resting his head against the wall behind him. His hand comes to rest on his own heart, which is beating wildly from the commotion. The twins calm down the moment they hear their father talk, so there’s no more danger of them showing up again.

“Did it work?” Cas then asks, as if he didn’t just die a few seconds ago. Dean opens his eyes again to look at his husband, and then shakes his head truthfully. “Again,” Cas then says.

“No,” Dean counters. “We’re done with this; one more zap and you’re toast. Just take a freaking breather and we’ll figure something out, okay?” Cas then nods, lying back down once more and calming his breath. Dean stands up to look around for a moment, searching for his phone but finding it missing.

Right, Cole still has it.

But where is Cole?

As it turns out, he’s no longer in the cabin. Dean’s searched every room and around the little building outside, but finds that there’s no more sign of the man. Of course, the missing truck is what convinced him in the end that the guy went out on his own again.

“That idiot,” Dean mutters, shaking his head and returning to Cas, who is now walking around again as well and searching through the shelves, eventually fishing out a bottle of water and drinking it completely in one go. Dean doesn’t pay it any mind, instead digging out Cas’ phone from his jacket and dialing his own number, hoping that Cole will pick up.

It rings only three times.

“ _Hello?”_ the by-now familiar voice of Cole asks. Dean clears his throat.

“Where the _hell_ do you think you’re going?” Dean doesn’t even bother to clarify who he is, he doesn’t think it’s necessary to begin with.

“ _Off to save my friend, ma’am,”_ Cole answers, and that last word just makes Dean shudder, another reminder that, to strangers, Dean is and always has been a woman. “ _I know how to cure him, I don’t need any help now so just get your husband and return home.”_

“The cure didn’t work, you idiot,” Dean retorts, casting one more look at Cas, who has fished out another bottle and downs it in one more go. Dean frowns, noticing how exasperated Cas looks as he drinks down the water. “Wait a minute.”

“ _What?”_ There’s quiet on the other side of the phone, which must mean that Cole has stopped driving.

“Cas, why are you drinking so much?” Dean asks, not holding the phone away from his face. The Angel turns around, looking a bit ashamed at being caught.

“I’m really thirsty, Dean,” he answers quietly, lifting up the bottle without really noticing it until it touches his lips again. Dean only nods for a moment, turning around again and focusing his attention to the conversation he’s having with Cole.

“The thing likes water,” he says, recalling how Kit supposedly drank the blood from the guy he just killed, licking it off the floor. “When water’s not enough...”

“ _Blood,”_ Cole answers, knowing where Dean is going with this. “ _So lack of fluids makes the thing hostile?”_

“It’s like a parasite” Dean agrees. “It rings you dry, and then it moves on.”

“ _So if Kit and Cas dry themselves out, those sons of bitches won’t like that very much, would they?”_

 _“_ No, they’d want the hell out,” Dean thinks out loud, turning back to Cas and slapping the bottle out of his hands. The empty plastic drops down on the floor and makes a scattering sound, and Cas can only stare at it in confusion.

“Babe, we found the solution, but you’re not going to like it.”

And indeed he doesn’t. After revealing the plan to Cas, and building up a fire with some of the logs they’ve found stacked up, Dean finds himself observing Cas, who is sweating away more fluid than both of them even thought he had.

His last phone call with Cole had been twenty minutes ago, and the guy had been in Kit’s house already, apparently trying to convince Jemma to get out of there. Dean can’t really be concerned for the guy at the moment, what with dehydrating his husband at the exact moment.

“I don’t think it’s working, Dean,” Cas says after sitting behind the fire for about an hour. Dean has already taken off a few layer of clothes, standing there in only a top, but the Angel is still sitting on the floor with all his clothes still on. Dean feels horrible for putting him through this, but right now it’s their only shot at rescuing him, so he has to try, at least.

About another thirty minutes later, Cas asks Dean to tie him up to a chair, and fifteen more minutes later, the begging starts.

“I can’t do this anymore, Dean!” Cas almost cries out. “I need to drink!”

“No, Cas, you are going to sweat this one through,” Dean responds. “Think about our family, Cas. The boys, Sam, Claire… You can’t leave them, you have to fight.”

By that time Cas is squirming so much in his chair that he’s fallen forward and is literally struggling with getting up again. The way he moves reminds Dean of a fish in the dry, and somehow the comparison is a good one, though not a fun one.

“Have you thought about names?” Dean tries, in an attempt to distract Cas some more. The Angel stops his movements and looks up at Dean with eyes wide open. His lips are cracked, and he looks pale despite the extreme heat he’s in. His eyes are wet from the tears, but at least his attention is elsewhere again.

“I- I haven’t really thought about it, no,” Cas answers truthfully. Dean helps him to sit up again, weary of the Angel’s head – he could still fake it and try to knock their heads together, or heck, even bite him to get some blood in his system.

“At Christmas, we had some suggestions, remember?” Dean continues, putting a hand on his husband shoulder for a few seconds before taking a few more steps backwards, keeping enough distance between them. “We discussed to names.”

“Jonah and Alan, yes,” Cas recalls, clearing his dry throat and making a painful sound. “Named after Ellen and Jo. They’re honorable names for honorable people who deserve to be remembered.”

“Well, I really like these names a lot,” Dean says with a slight smile on his face. “Can’t really think of other names for them. Alan Winchester, Jonah Winchester. Sounds badass, right?”

Cas smirks then as well, but not for long. His eyes are squeezed shut in just a matter of seconds and after making a snapping sound, his hands are freed from the ropes binding them together. Dean barely notices it until Cas is on him, hands squeezing in his arms and pushing him down on the table he was sitting on.

“Cas what are you doing?” Dean shouts out, seeing the weird flinching of his husband’s face. Then, Cas throws his head back, a loud and painful sound coming out of his throat. His grip on Dean gets loose and the hunter moves to the side in a successful attempt to evade him.

He knows what exactly is going on when Cas starts coughing again, and he isn’t all too surprised when something drops out of his mouth and onto the floor. Without warning, Dean pushes Cas aside, and stomps the disgusting thing with all the force he has in his foot.

“Holy crap!” Dean breathes out, dropping down on his knees and taking Cas’ face into his own hands. The Angel looks literally exhausted, eyes dropping and mouth fallen open, trying to steady his own breath as he sits there on his knees.

“I-“ he starts, but then he falls forward, bumping against Dean who tries to keep him up. The hunter passes his fingers through his hair as he tries to comfort him, reaching out for the fallen water bottle he had kept close for this exact moment, and offering it to the thirsty Angel.

In less than 10 seconds, the bottle is emptied, and a second one follows quickly after. Eventually, Cas lies himself back down on the floor, with his hand on his stomach and his breathing quickened. There’s a slight smile on his face as he turns to look at Dean.

“I-“ he starts again before scraping his throat once more. “I like those names as well.”

And Dean huffs out a breathy laugh and lowers his head against his arms while biting his lower lip.

“You are an idiot,” he tells him.

 

* * *

 

 

As it turns out, Cole managed to chase Jemma out of her house, and succeeded in holding Kit back long enough for him to tie him up, and eventually they got the sucker out of him as well. Still, the guy is now searched for murder, which is something neither Dean nor Cas can do anything about.

Cole returns Dean’s cellphone when they meet again, and then goes his own way again, meeting up with his wife and kids again. Dean isn’t sorry to see him go, finding the guy kind of a douche – still, were he ever to meet up with him again, that wouldn’t be the most terrible thing to happen, either.

They let Sam know not to meet up with them, but instead make his way back to the bunker. The younger hunter appears to be just happy the two of them made it out of there alive. Cas and Dean, in return, continue their search for Gabriel now that they’re here anyway, but after two more days of searching they come to the conclusion that there’s nothing more for them here, so they return home as well.

And as Dean lies in bed one night, he realizes that this has been it; there are no more hunts for him now.

It’s truly over.

And heck, doesn’t that scare the crap out of him.


	24. Now, the question is, am I hungry, or are you hungry?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what it is, I'm never happy with any chapter I write, which is always why it takes so long to upload! I'll really try my best to speed things up again, I'm so sorry!  
> As you can probably imagine, still not really convinced about this chapter, but honestly, the story needs to move along. Next chapter is going to be more fun to write, so that'll probably be a better one :)  
> I hope you'll still like it, despite the horrible writing!

 

_Lebanon, Kansas, Men of Letters HQ  
22 weeks_

Dean would never have thought that he’d ever see hair on his chin again. And, besides, it’s not like he noticed it himself, instead having it pointed out by Cas as they were lazily kissing that morning. Dean had hurried into the bathroom the moment he told, and found that, indeed, there were some hairs on his chin.

“This is freaking weird,” Dean mutters out, wondering if he should be freaking out about this, but knowing that it’s not as weird as his body getting skinnier by the day while his belly keeps on expanding, getting him completely out of proportion. “First my hair starts getting thicker, then my feet get larger, and now I’m growing a beard again? How do women not freak out about this?”

“Because they read a book about it?” Cas asks as he takes off his clothes to get himself into a shower. Dean looks at him through the mirror, catching him as he pulls off the shirt he’d been sleeping in. Dean snorts, passing a hand through his thick locks of hair and then undressing as well.

“Yeah, as if you’ve been doing much research about it,” he mutters out, getting towards his husband and pressing a quick kiss against his lips before getting into the shower. “The most we know about it is from doc Ralph and Linda.”

“Well, I’ve been reading up enough to know that we should start getting the nursery ready,” Cas says in a low voice, obviously hesitating about whether or not he should actually bring this up. Dean can understand that, but he wishes Cas wouldn’t be so conflicted about it.

“Then maybe we should be going shopping, right? Are they getting separate rooms or will we keep them together? We’d better take the room next to ours, so you’ll hear if one of them is crying.” Dean keeps on rambling on about it, never noticing the way Cas’ eyes start reddening from upcoming tears until the Angel actually starts to sob.

Dean doesn’t say anything else, then, instead only placing a hand on the Angel’s cheek and pulling him closer to catch a quick kiss. Their shower is quick and quiet, neither of them feeling the need to continue talking.

The past three weeks have been going on the same, really; they catch a sign of Gabriel, hop into the car, and end up making the whole way for nothing when it turns out the Archangel is long gone. Meanwhile, both Sam and Cas have gone to one more hunt involving a ghost-nun who killed off dishonest people – Dean wishes he could have been there because that just sounded awesome when they told him about it.

Dean has gotten a few more mails from Lauren, who is by now back in the country, but currently busy with finding a new job for herself. When Dean informed her of the names he and Cas had chosen, she had been ecstatic, promising Dean she would already make personalized accessories for the boys for when they’re born.

There still hasn’t been any news on Crowley nor Rowena, even though Charlie is putting all her effort in finding them. Dean even wonders if they’ll ever even hear anything from them again. Maybe they’re better off, anyway? Who knows, he doesn’t really want to think about it much more; he has more pressing matters ahead.

It’s another one of those days where Cas and Sam leave for a hunt – Sam came with the news that morning when they were still asleep, waking them up and urging Cas on to leave without much information on what the hunt is about. Even now as they’re both dressed and Cas is ready to go does Sam keep up all this mystery about this so-called case. Though, normally, Dean would question him about it, but right now there’s only research on his agenda, along with heading into the town to restock on their necessities with Linda. It’s the boring domestic life he’s never going to get, but at least it’s better than having to sit in a chair all day and not being allowed to move at all.

Cas is hurried out of the bunker after Sam is ready, and their goodbye isn’t elaborate aside from the promise that they’ll be back in no time. They take Cas’ car, and their off before Dean can really process it.

So here he finds himself, alone again (or not really), with just more research ahead of him. But even as he plants himself behind the books does he realize that today, just like all the other days, he won’t be able to find anything. There’s just nothing written like this, and every possible loophole they’ve come across has either such a bad side-effect (like Cas dying, or the twins dying, or unleashing the end of the world (again)…) or requires for Dean to sacrifice somebody to whatever God that can help him.

It’s safe to say that they’ve given up on those ideas rather quickly.

So instead he opens up the database Charlie uses for the localization of Crowley, Rowena or Gabriel, finding himself going through one image after the other but finding nobody of the three. For a moment, Dean even wonders if Gabriel is still on Earth right now.

And what about Balthazar? Or Anna? Why have they been brought back if they never really even show up? Did God just feel generous when bringing back Gabriel? Are they going to serve any purpose, later?

By the time Dean’s stomach starts growl, he hasn’t found anything. He gives up on the research and decides to have lunch, agreeing with Linda that it’s just not their day, today. Then again, that’s what they’ve been saying for the past few days, now.

 

* * *

 

 

_Meanwhile, at the border of Lebanon, Kansas._

 

Cas finds himself staring at the sky as he’s sitting down on a bench close to the car. His fingers are crossed together while he’s looking up, remembering how his home used to be up there with all his familiar brothers and sisters. How much he’s lost from there, and how much he’s taken, he can’t even begin to describe the numbers. He’s done quite a lot of damage there, and he can completely understand why his siblings are no longer itching on helping him.

“Is it working?” Sam’s voice suddenly interrupts his train of thoughts, and Castiel is immediately reminded that he’s supposed to do something else instead of rethinking about his past. He clears his throat, licks his lips and leans his elbows back on his knees.

“Give me a moment,” he says in return, closing his eyes again. After a deep breath, he empties his mind like he’s always done when trying to talk to his brothers and sisters, and he forms out the message they’ve agreed on.

_My brothers and sisters, who-ever is listening up there. I’ve come to ask you once more for help. Please help a weakened brother out and let us speak to Metatron one last time._

There’s no answer, but he didn’t expect one, anyway. His head has been awfully silent ever since he’s lost his connection to the host, and it had been driving him insane the first few days after becoming human. By now, he’s used to it more, but being in complete silence still unsettles him most of the time.

“I sincerely doubt anybody is going to be willing to help,” Castiel says, and after hearing the flutter of wings behind them, both Sam and Castiel turn around with their mouths fallen open, expecting somebody like Hannah or Inias, but instead finding the familiar red hair that belongs to Anna’s human body.

“Hello, Castiel,” she greets him with a smile, and Castiel just nods, honestly a bit disappointed that it’s her who’s answering. Mostly he had hoped it would have been Gabriel, or maybe even Naomi since she’s got friends in high places and quite the ‘politician’. But no, instead it’s his own previous leader who has chosen humanity above eternal life. By then, Castiel hadn’t understood why somebody would do that. Now that he’s with Dean, he can understand the charm in having an end nearing with every day.

“Anna,” Castiel greets her in return. He doesn’t move from where he’s standing. “I wasn’t expecting you, to be honest.”

“The Angels have their orders,” Anna clarifies. “They are not to communicate with you for the following century. Azrael’s command.” With that, Anna confirms what Castiel has been suspecting for a while now.

“We need to talk to Metatron,” Castiel says after a few more moments of silence. He can sense Sam looking at him with pitying eyes, but he decides to ignore that. He doesn’t need it, that look of sadness his brother-in-law is offering him.

“Why?” Anna asks. Castiel feels a bit uneasy in her stiff way of talking, and suddenly wonders if that’s how Dean and Sam had felt with him at first.

“This is about Dean,” Sam says from behind Castiel, hair a bit wild from the sudden wind. Castiel nods slightly, hoping that Anna will let them through, but fearing that she might not.

“You are hoping that he has more information to offer on the Nephilim? On how to rescue him, right?” Anna asks in clarification.

“He’s the only one we know who really remembers them,” Castiel tries, in an attempt to convince her. Her hazel eyes turn back to him now, but there’s still no expression to be found in those big eyes. Her lips are one straight line, there’s no color on her pale face. If Castiel didn’t know any better, he’d say she’s a walking corpse.

“He’s not the only one,” Anna corrects him. Castiel knows this is probably some cryptic way of saying that all of them were present during the Nephilim-era, but, as if somebody erased it from their memories, no other Angel seems to remember _why_ it is exactly that they are bad.

“Who, then?” Castiel asks, falling for the bait. He knows he’s probably not going to like the answer she’s going to give him.

“Azrael.”

He was right, he doesn’t like the answer. Castiel’s whole posture stiffens at the mention of her, remembering once more how she banished him from Heaven with no second thought. He hadn’t even received a proper case to gain his freedom.

“What does _she_ know about Nephilim? She hates them the most?” Castiel bites out. It doesn’t seem to bother Anna at all, but she does start to walk towards a bench nearby. Sam nods at Castiel and then follows her, sitting down when she gestures them to. Castiel hesitates for a moment, wondering what’s going to happen. Is she going to tell them something? Is she trying to distract them?

“In the era of the Nephilim, the Angels were mostly busy answering prayers from the humans. You probably don’t remember this, Castiel, as you were still in training back then.”

Castiel receives a look from Sam, and he knows it’s because the hunter just realized again how old the Angel really is. Even Castiel can’t put a number on the years he’s spent alive, and he doesn’t want to. Not anymore.

“Azrael was one of the Angels people had been praying to the most, often reaching out for her whenever a family member was dying. Which is why she is, to this day, often mistaken as the Angel of Death.

“You see, she agreed to heal the family members, on the condition that the whole family would swear loyalty to our Father, and follow the Ten Commandments. She was, back then, the most successful of them all.

“But one day, she expressed emotions. After spending so much time with humans – no matter how short that time may be every time – she got to help out, mostly out of the goodness of her heart – metaphorically speaking, of course – rather than the obligation that came with being an Angel. A young woman begged for her help when her little brother was dying, she descended from Heaven, and helped out without hesitation. Out of curiosity, she agreed to mate with her, and out of that came the first Nephilim.”

Castiel’s breath catches, not having expected that at all. With the way Azrael has always seemed to hate the Nephilim, he never would have figured that she would have had one of her own. All he can see, when he thinks of her, is that stoic, emotionless face that seems to judge everybody’s she’s looking at. The idea that she might have helped bring a Nephilim to the world… it’s just too unimaginable.

“What happened to the child?” Sam asks when Anna doesn’t continue.

“The child grew up just fine, proving herself even more powerful than Azrael herself. Other Angels feared she might be dangerous, but others agreed that, if properly raised, these children could strengthen our connection with the humans, which is what our Father, as we thought, wanted us to do. And so other Angels created more Nephilim, until there were about a few thousands of them.

“Norelia, which was Azrael’s daughter’s name, had by then grown into a honest young woman, and her aging process seemed to have stopped around then – though it might also have just been slowed down, we don’t know for sure. But a few of the Angels challenged Azrael, blamed her for disrupting the peace that was in Heaven and forcing them to divide. They wanted to kill her, but Norelia stopped them, instead killing the Angel that attacked her, for she was stronger than he was. The others quickly fled back to Heaven, and spread the word, marking Norelia as dangerous.

“The Host had agreed that she had committed a crime against Heaven, and was sentenced to Death. Other Nephilim were regarded as dangerous, and were avoided in contact. Azrael, who had been furious with grief, swore that, if she couldn’t keep her Nephilim-child, none of the others could, either. With that, she led the mission and helped killing thousands of them. Every bit of emotion she had once started to show now vanished. She released her vessel, and only took on a new one eons later, this time a vessel that could not reproduce by Angel’s standards.

“Nobody still remembers the Azrael from the time before the Nephilim, and it’s probably our Father who decided to make us forget about that period. It has never been spoken of, again. The only reason I know about it is because Father undid anything that happened to my memory. The same thing counts for Gabriel, Balthazar and Samandriel.”

Castiel and Sam remain silent for a moment, turning to look at each other without really saying anything. This story might prove that Azrael might be the most dangerous of them all for them, and not even now that Dean is pregnant, but for ever; she’ll never stop chasing them if she finds out, and she surely will.

To make it short, they’re all in danger

“I need to go, now. You should just return home, there’s no way you will be seeing Metatron, so better to let that idea go.”

“Then let us at least speak to Gabriel,” Castiel counters, still painfully remembering that his husband is slowly dying. The weeks are nearing to an end, with only sixteen more to go. Dean’s body is slowly but surely getting skinnier, and Castiel has no doubt that, in the end, there will only be skin on bones.

“Gabriel will see you when the time is right,” Anna answers. Sam, next to Castiel, rolls his eyes and throws his hands up in the air.

“And when will that be? When Dean’s already dead?”

But Anna’s already gone.

“You’ve got to be joking?!” Sam shouts out as he jumps up from the bench and comes to stand where Anna had previously been standing. His hand quickly goes to his forehead in obvious worry, but for the next few minutes they both stay quiet. There are no words to say at this point; everything is working against them, here. It might have been possible, one time, to defy whatever God had written out for them, but that’s probably mostly because He had given up on them. Now, somehow, He seems so intent. Castiel feels as if He’s actually putting some effort in making sure that things are happening the way they should happen.

So bringing back Balthazar, Anna, and now apparently Samandriel is only to help Him guide things into following the right script? Castiel’s head hurts a little bit as he tries to understand what his Father is planning. Nothing makes sense, really, and by now he only wishes he could find Him and give Him a piece of his mind.

But would He even care about that? To Him, Castiel is probably one of the many Angels he created. There’s nothing special about him, really.

“You think somebody from the inside might want to talk to Metatron?” Sam suddenly asks, hand lowered a bit and head raised to look at Castiel with newfound hope. The Angel feels horrible to talk down his now-forming new plan, but he heard what Anna said.

Nobody is allowed to talk to him anymore for the next century.

“Even if there is, they have their orders to ignore me,” Castiel counters. He hunches his shoulders forward and leans his elbows on his knees. His head is resting on his hands. He takes a deep breath and just shakes his head. “I don’t know what to do anymore, Sam. The only one I can think of right now is Death, but even with him we’ll be pushing our luck.”

“But if we could get a human soul into talking to Metatron? You think that would work?” Sam doesn’t seem discouraged by Castiel’s words, and immediately, Castiel looks up to look at his brother-in-law, who has now a sudden smirk on his tired-looking face. His hair is now a complete mess from the wind, and the rain that has just started to appear is not helping at all.

“What are you saying, Sam?” Castiel asks in an attempt to understand Sam’s plan some more, but he thinks he already knows where the hunter is headed.

“Bobby? He could do it. He’d do anything to help Dean.”

 

* * *

 

 

_Local Supermarket, Lebanon, Kansas_

Once again Dean is reminded why he hates shopping that much. Especially when it’s full of other people who keep on blocking the way with their slow pacing and hurling children who are angry that they’re not getting the toy they wanted.

Young women look at him sympathetically as he passes them by. Only half of the men even acknowledge him when they see him, but most of them seemed scared off by the swollen belly he has. He knows why, though; a pregnant woman could probably only mean that there’s a man out there somewhere who would kick their ass if they would try anything, either a brother or a husband, or even a best friend. Pregnant ladies are a no-go, which is some sort of unspoken agreement going on through all the men.

Dean sighs as he gets to the section that holds all baby-stuff, and wonders if he should already start going for these kinds of things. If only Linda hadn’t run off like that with the other half of the shopping list. Dean’s half has been completed, everything put neatly in the chart. And now he’s here, holding two sorts of different diapers in his hands and trying to figure out which one would be better for the boys. The one’s cheaper, yes, but the other is supposedly more durable and can even be washed a couple of times.

“So that belly is about ready to pop, if I’m not wrong?” a soft female voice next to him asks, and Dean looks up from the packages to find an unfamiliar blonde woman standing there with her own shopping cart. The first thing Dean notices on her is that she, too, is expecting.

Dean looks down at his own belly and immediately understands why she’s assuming just that, and he lets out a soft laugh. There’s no harm in talking to her, right? She hasn’t done anything, and she’s only trying to make conversation.

“Actually, I’m only at 22 weeks at the moment, but I can understand why you would say that,” Dean answers. The woman’s eyes widen for a moment, but then she smiles as the words seem to sink through.

“Ah, so eating for three, then?” she asks. Dean just nods. “First pregnancy?”

“And hopefully the last,” Dean adds in agreement. The woman lets out a soft giggle. She then leans against the cart and pushes her hair backwards.

“I get it, this is my second one, now, but there doesn’t have to be a third, anymore. Quite a hassle, these pregnancies.” There’s a light tone in the way she talks, which makes Dean realize that, even though the process isn’t all that pleasant all the time, she still thinks it’s worth it all.

“The constant need to pee is the worst of it all,” Dean adds, groaning internally at the thought of having to go to the toilet every half hour. These boys are pushing against his bladder so hard that there’s this constant feeling of needing to go.

“I know, right?” the woman responds. Then it looks like there’s something more she wants to say, but her mouth closes shut and her posture straightens. “I need to go,” she says, and then, without her shopping cart, she walks away from Dean. In confusion, Dean watches her go, only then noticing how the complete shop around him seems to have emptied.

There’s literally nobody there anymore.

“What the…” he starts, but only then does he notice the redheaded woman sitting on a few boxes, body completely covered in a black cloak.

“Dean,” she says with a slight smirk on her face.

“Rowena,” Dean answers, taken aback from her sudden appearance. “What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this? Sorry, did I say ‘nice’ girl? I meant evil skank.”

Rowena just starts laughing, showing her pearl white teeth in the process. “You’re saying it like it’s an insult,” she remarks in amusement. “Nice girls? They’re pathetic. I’d much rather be an evil skank.” Then she adds a wink to it.

Then there’s a hard blow to his head, and Dean is pushed forward with a painful grunt. Whatever hit him, apparently broke. When the hunter looks down, he notices the shards of what seems to have been a mug. Once he turns around, he sees two random strangers with blood-stained eyes, each of them holding something else made out of glass. They look at him murderously, obviously put under a spell.

“Ah, come on,” Dean complains. But there’s no need to panic; not yet at least. “What did you do to them?” he asks Rowena. Instead of getting an answer, he’s instead pushed against the wall, head banging hard against the wall and for a moment making him see stars in front of him. Once again, the air is pushed out of his lungs, and his heart already picks up the speed.

In what can’t be described as anything else but self-defense, Dean punches the guy hard on the cheek, throwing him off balance and making him drop to the ground with a grunt. Dean then pushes himself away from the wall, trying to get away from him.

But he’d forgotten about the second guy, only remembering him when another punch is thrown on his own face.

 _Protect,_ comes up from inside him.

“No, not yet,” Dean mutters back, spitting the blood away from his mouth and returning the punch and adding another one right after that. He ignores the pain in his own fist, instead turning back around to look for anything that might be useful as a weapon. Sadly, the only thing he can find are baby-stuff. Nothing sharp, in other words.

But then again, would he just kill these guys when they obviously did nothing wrong?

He has to hold back a few curses when another hard thing is smashed against his head. He drops down to his knees and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to count to ten to calm himself down, but the person behind him doesn’t seem to agree with that and gives him another smash, sending him sideways, on the ground.

Of course there’s a third one here.

When Dean turns around at last to see who his new attacker is, dread passes all over his body.

It’s the pregnant woman, with blood dripping from her eyes and a feral look on her face. How could Rowena even think about taking this woman with whatever spell she’d performed on them all?

“No no no! Snap out of it,” Dean tries to urge her on, avoiding rather than punching back, mostly in fear of hurting her baby. If she would fall or get a shock too great, and end up losing the baby, Dean doesn’t think he could ever forgive himself.

The woman makes another growling sound and throws herself on him again, landing one punch after the other. Dean just lets her, instead trying to reach deep down in himself and find that familiar Grace. If only there’s a way for him to use it without actually killing this woman…

 _‘Terminate?’_ Dean’s mind suddenly asks, and the hunter shakes his head.

‘ _Don’t terminate, just sedate,’_ Dean thinks back, hoping that the message gets through. Then his hand goes up without his consent, and is pressed against the woman’s face. When her whole body goes slack and her eyes close down, Dean moves immediately to break her fall, catching her just in time. After checking if she’s still breathing, Dean stands up again, ignoring the pain all over his face. He must look ridiculously blue and bloodied by now.

“Someone’s tougher than he looks,” Rowena mutters out in surprise, then pulling off her black cloak and revealing her arms and chest, covered with red runes.

Shit, she’s going to perform a spell.

“A spioradÌ an tsaoil, ÈistigÌ liom! DÛighigÌ an fear seo! DÛighigÌ go luaithreach È!”

And then there’s a bright white light, blinding Dean at the spot. He covers his eyes and turns his face away, knowing that now it’s too late. Her attempt to kill him will bring up the twins.

 _‘Terminate, terminate, terminate!’_ keeps on being repeated in his mind, even as the light has subsided and he involuntarily looks back up at her. Her face looks frightened and scared, mouth having fallen open and eyes staring right at him. Then she lowers her gaze back to her arms as if to quickly check if her runes are actually correct, before looking back up again.

“Not possible,” she mutters out. Dean doesn’t say anything, instead feeling his legs march up to her and grabbing her throat and placing two fingers against her forehead. Before either of the twins act any further, though, Dean feels the controls shift back to him without the power subsiding. They are actually letting him do the talking.

 

 

“What the _hell_ are you doing?” Dean whispers to her in a low voice. The woman is shivering in his hands, breathing fast and looking downright nervous. Dean doesn’t feel sorry for her in the least.

“Avenging my son,” she returns with a shaky voice. Dean can’t help but roll his eyes. Yeah, as if she really cares that much about Crowley to begin with. Dean doesn’t believe much of it. “My son was a king. And he still would be if you didn’t…” she didn’t seem to be able to continue her sentence. Dean’s almost impressed by her acting skills.

“Well, you think I’m gonna let you just walk out of here?” Dean asks after a few seconds of silence. He doesn’t like the new smirk creeping up on her lipstick-covered lips.

“You think you’re a hero,” she comments. “You could have killed these people, but instead you chose not to. Because they’re innocent.”

Dean frowns. Rowena clicks her tongue, smirk growing even wider.

“Because you’re the good guy, and you want them to live. But the spell I cast will devour them from the inside out, and I’m the only one who can save them.”

Of course… Of course she’s got a plan to get away. She’s just smart in that way, so it seems. Freaking witches, he knew there’s a reason why he hates them. He can’t just gamble with these people’s lives. The young woman is pregnant for crying out loud.

So, Dean lowers his hand, not removing the one he still has wrapped around her neck. With a long look from Rowena, he then finally releases her completely, raising his hands and feeling the power slip away again. His head is buzzing when she starts speaking her incantation, and for a moment he wonders if it isn’t some delayed effect from that spell she cast out on him. What was all that about, even?

Heck, he really needs to figure out the real reason why she’s here, but he’s sure nothing much will come out of her mouth about it. In the end, he’s sure that it’s not even close about getting revenge for Crowley. She might be a good actress, but not that good of one.

By the time his head has cleared enough for him to notice his surroundings again, Rowena is gone, and the three people on the ground start to wake up again.

At least one thing went right here, then.

After that, Dean feels himself drop down to the ground, and then there’s only darkness.

 

* * *

 

“I haven’t heard from Dean all day.”

Sam looks up from the road when Castiel speaks up, frowning upon the Angel’s words. Castiel is holding his cellphone with his thumb hovering above Dean’s name.

“What do you mean?” Sam asks. Castiel just sighs, lowering the cellphone and shaking his head.

“I thought he would at least have called or anything, but now he’s not even answering his phone. I don’t like it.”

And it sucks, because they’re only in Chicago and have about twelve more hours ahead of them before they reach River Fall, all the way in Massachusetts. Castiel doesn’t like being separated from Dean for so long, but Sam’s presence at least offers him comfort. He likes spending time with the younger brother, especially when he’s able to talk about the more serious stuff, which he can’t really do with Dean most of the time.

“Try Linda?” Sam suggests. Castiel looks up again, realizing that it’s indeed not a bad idea. How did he not think of that, himself? He lifts his phone again, searching for the woman’s number, and pressing it. There are a few short ringing-tones on the other side of the line, and then, by all luck, somebody seems to pick up the phone.

“ _Hello_?” a familiar woman’s voice asks. Castiel feels the breath escaping from his voice at the relief. He’s sure that, if something were wrong, she would have called him, right?

“Linda? It’s Castiel,” the Angel tells her. The woman then lets out a short gasp, and then there’s the sound of a closing door.

“ _Castiel, thank God you called, Dean made me promise not to give you a ring and I don’t really want to make him angry right now,”_ Linda’s hushed voice says. Castiel frowns, and Sam catches up to it, making a sudden worried face.

“What’s happening?” he asks, and Castiel relates to that question.

“What happened with him?” he asks. What kind of state would Dean be in right now to make Linda scared enough of him, and what brought him to that point? Castiel knows they went shopping for groceries, but what really could have happened during that time?

“ _It was weird, I don’t recall much of it. One moment I was standing beside him and the other I was suddenly outside and half an hour had passed! When I got back inside the shop, Dean was lying on the ground, unconscious! And all around him a few people who looked like they got knocked out by him.  I didn’t bring my cell with me so I couldn’t call you up!”_

“And why didn’t you call afterwards?” Castiel bites out, feeling a bit angry for that. The least she could do was dial his number or anything, right?

“ _After Dean woke up, he made me promise not to call you. When I disagreed, his eyes actually glowed blue so I didn’t.”_ Linda explains. Castiel can feel a sudden chill passing through him upon hearing that; something must have riled Dean up enough that the twins had to intervene again, but, from what Linda just told him, nobody seems to be dead. Could this mean that Dean managed to control them?

“Can you pass him through?” Castiel asks, lifting his hand in a gesture for Sam to wait when the hunters looks at him with the obvious need to know more.

“ _He’s sleeping off whatever happened to him, now. You should better try to call him again in the morning. But I can assure you, physically, he’s completely fine.”_

Castiel doesn’t really feel better with that, but eventually he does say goodbye to Linda and hangs up again. His explanation to Sam is short, and to be fair there isn’t much he can pass along; she didn’t give him much information to go on, to be exact.

“So, what, something strange attacks Dean – something strange enough to make the twins pissed enough – and after that he just sleeps it off? It’s kind of weird, don’t you think?”

Castiel finds himself shrugging. His husband has been turned into a woman and is now carrying his children; obviously there are stranger things happening to them. The only thing bothering him right now is this sudden but yet predictable need of Dean to keep this hidden from Cas. What is he trying to accomplish with that, anyway? If he doesn’t want him to worry, it’s a hopeless case; All Castiel does is worry, especially as long as his supposed death is nearing.

Well, okay, to be true, every day is nearing the day of death, but Dean would surely have had more years than this…

“Sam, you really think this… Oliver Pryce… that he can help us get in contact with Bobby?” Castiel asks after a long moment of silence. Sam sighs but then nods.

“Yes, I read about him in the Men of Letters’ archives. Appears to be the real deal. Back in the ‘50’s he was a kid-psychic. He performed everywhere. He was the real deal, and the Men of Letters were teaching him how to control his powers when they got… you know,” Sam explains tiredly. The drive is probably starting to weight on him; he should be taking a little break, maybe let Cas drive for a little while.  

“Brutally slaughtered?” Castiel asks, finishing Sam’s sentence for him. Much isn’t known of the Men of Letters’ activities before they were all killed off by Abaddon since not one of them is even left anymore. Castiel hadn’t even been aware of their existence, even though they were aware of his kind. 

“And are we certain that Bobby is going to want to help?” Castiel then asks. Sam gives him a look, and wonders what makes him think Bobby wouldn’t. “He’s been dead for a few years now; he’s going to have a complete different point of view of it from us.”

Sam stays quiet for a moment, thinking the words through. The silence is thick between them, obviously filled with concerns and hesitation. Neither of them are sure what exactly they want to do here, but it seems obvious that Dean’s survival is still a number one priority.

“Sam, watch out!” Castiel finds himself shouting when suddenly a small figure appears right in front of them, in the middle of the road. Castiel has to admire Sam’s reflexes, really, because the man slams the break immediately, putting the car into a halt. It’s good that they thought of putting on seatbelts, otherwise their heads would have been slammed hard against the front of the car.

The engine of the car has turned off, and for a moment all Sam and Castiel can do is breathe out heavily as they try to recover from the sudden shock. Who knows how fast Sam has been going? At least it was faster than the limit permitted, so taking a halt so sudden really isn’t all that agreeable to their body.

It’s Sam who looks up first, and Castiel can see his face turn grim, all expression suddenly going from neutral to completely infuriated.

“Rowena,” he mutters right before exiting the car. Castiel undoes his seatbelt and quickly follows the younger Winchester, who is making his way to the witch currently standing here. When Sam’s steps are suddenly stopped, Castiel knows she’s using her spell work to keep him there.

“I have not come here to harm you, Sam Winchester,” Rowena tells them, Scottish accent thick on her voice. Her long red hair is graciously curled as always, and she’s wearing a long black dress, which makes Castiel understand that that’s a fashion she does seem to prefer over everything.

“Yeah, as if witches haven’t tried that one, before,” Sam says, making a few groaning noises as he tries to break free from her magical bindings, but failing at it. She looks insulted, Castiel realizes, but he wonders whether or not he should believe that.

“Your words wound me, Sam!” Rowena says dramatically. “I’ve only come here to help you out with your Dean-problems, but if that’s how you want to do it, then I’ll better be going,” she adds, and after that she turns around in grand gesture and starts walking away. The spell on Sam lifts up, but he doesn’t charge after her. Castiel can see on his face that she’s peaked his interest.

And that’s what he’s afraid of, right now.

“Wait!” he calls out right before Castiel can stop him, and the witch immediately does, stopping in her steps and then turning around with the biggest grin on her face. “You think you can save Dean?”

“I surely can. There are ways to bind the soul to the Earth while the body is recuperating, and Dean’s body is going to need a lot of healing afterwards,” she says. Castiel still doesn’t like it, and even less now she’s obviously gotten Sam’s attention. If only he could stop her. If only he still had his powers…

“How,” Sam breathes out, voice hard but obviously pained. Rowena comes closer again, white teeth showing in her smile.

“Magic, my boy,” she says.

“No, Sam,” Castiel finally answers, stopping the younger Winchester before this could be getting out of hand. “We don’t want your help, Rowena. Get out of here before we destroy you.”

The look in her eyes darken, and her smile disappears.

“What are you going to do, _Angel_? As far as I know, you’re all out of juice,” Rowena snaps back. Her stance is defensive and her hands are balled into fists. Castiel tries not to let it intimidate him, despite knowing how powerful she is.

“I have enough juice in me to knock you out, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Castiel retorts. Sure, it will knock him down along with her, but at least that’s better than letting her seduce Sam into working with her. The younger Winchester looks a bit perplexed, if not a bit conflicted of who he should listen to, here.

Luckily, Rowena does it for them, speaking out a short spell before disappearing right in front of their eyes.

“Let’s keep driving,” Castiel mutters out once he’s sure that she’s no longer in the neighborhood. He moves back towards the car and makes his way to the passenger’s side. Sam remains standing there, obviously still thinking about what just happened. Maybe he needs to sleep it off; he’s been driving for twelve hours straight, he should be getting some sleep now.

So instead, Castiel finds himself sitting down behind the wheel, waiting for Sam to take place next to him. The younger hunter is silent, and Castiel himself is not really feeling like talking about anything, right now. The only thing he wants is to find this psychic, talk to Bobby, and figure out a way to talk to Metatron in the hopes that he can save Dean.

After a short stop at a tanking station and eleven more hours of silence, Castiel does eventually pull up in front of a house that clearly shows that they’re not very welcome. The gates are full with signs that warns visitors to stay away, and there’s almost more garden outside than inside the lot.

“I’m not sure we’re going to be welcome,” Castiel tells Sam, who then looks up to see what Castiel is talking about. His expression falls a little bit, but after a short sigh he gets out of the car and makes his way towards the gate. Silently, Castiel follows him.

Despite the warnings and threats, the door of the gate doesn’t seem locked, so the two have it easy walking up towards the front door. There’s no doorbell on the brown door, and Castiel is not really sure if the man will hear Sam call out for him when he knocks on it.

“Oliver Pryce!” Sam shouts a second time when there’s still no answer. Castiel gives Sam a long look, seeing the younger hunter getting more desperate by the second. His face seems worried, his hair is hanging lifelessly in front of his eyes, and he looks like he’s barely been having any sleep at all.

“We should break it down,” Castiel then says when there’s still no answer. Sam shakes his head and lifts up his hands to stop him from moving forward.

“Dude, chill,” Sam tells him instead.

“What? He’s not opening the door?” Castiel returns. Sam sighs.

“Just follow my lead,” he then says, knocking one more time. They both startle when a light suddenly starts shining. This is good, right? This probably means the man is getting to open the door? “Mr. Pryce, this is Sam-“

And then the door is opened and an older man with a beard and glasses now stands in front of them, opening the door further while leaning against the wooden doorpost.

“Winchester, you’re Sam Winchester, Men of Letters,” the man finishes for him in an annoyed voice. Castiel frowns, and so does Sam. Mr. Pryce doesn’t seem impressed, or entertained for that matter, at all.

“Yeah, how did you…?” Sam starts with confusion thick on his voice.

“Mind reader, remember?” the man interrupts him again, and then his dark eyes turn on Castiel, and his mouth opens to continue. “And you’re…”

But then he stops, thick eyebrows going together into a frown from surprise as he takes in Castiel’s form, probably trying to read him. The Angel finds himself frowning along, wondering what’s keeping the guy from continuing?

“What… are you?” Oliver Pryce then asks slowly, seeming a bit cautious at the sudden disadvantage he’s having. Castiel understands what’s wrong, though, and he can’t help but let out a sigh as he turns to give Sam an annoyed look. They should just tell him the truth because he’s going to find out eventually.

“I’m an Angel,” Castiel answers shortly. The man opens his mouth to say something in return, but nothing escapes his mouth and he starts shaking his head.

“That… no you can’t be,” the man denies.

“Why not?” Castiel asks in sudden worry. Is it clear that there’s barely any Grace left in him? Is he now stuck as a soulless entity in a vessel he’s since long started to call his own body?

“Because I’m an atheist,” the man returns. Next to Castiel, Sam snorts and starts to move forward to get inside.

“Not anymore,” he says, inviting himself in. He’s quickly followed by Castiel and then Mr. Pryce, who’s closing the door behind them to keep the cold air out. The man’s house looks like an explosion happened inside a library; hundreds of books are scattered around the floor, and some are stacked up in to high towers. As Castiel walks into the living room, he finds himself face to face with what looks like a poster for Mr. Pryce’s old magician-act. The face on it is that of a child, probably himself from back in that time.

“That’s you?” Castiel asks when Mr. Pryce has followed them as well and is now standing behind him. The man lets out a huff of breath that might be a laugh, but could also just be a sigh.

“ _Was_ me. I don’t do that psychic stuff, no more. Being around people, it’s kind of… Hell. All those brains yapping all the time, drives a guy bananas,” the man explains. Castiel nods in understanding.

“Because you can hear everyone’s thoughts,” Castiel states. The man keeps on staring at him.

“Not yours,” he counters. “All I’m getting from you is… colors. But the hippie over there? I’m seeing some creep-ass hobbit-lookin’ fella, a prison cell?” Sam seems a bit unimpressed upon being called a hippie by the man.

“That’s Heaven’s jail,” Castiel answers shortly, knowing the man is talking about Metatron. Mr. Pryce turns around again with eyes wide open.

“Heaven’s got a freaking jail?” he asks.

“Yeah, yeah it does,” Sam then finally says. “And we’re looking to break someone out of it.”

It all seems to overwhelm the man a little bit as he turns to stare at Sam for a moment, probably going through his mind. He nods for a moment, but nothing really escapes his mouth.

“We have an inside man, but we need your help to talk to him,” Castiel answers.

“And if I say no?” Pryce asks.

“You’re the mind reader,” Sam answers. That seems to scare the man off, and after that he’s off to find his stuff to get in contact with Bobby’s spirit. Nobody talks as he starts to prepare the dining-table, not filling it with plates but with multiple candles upon it in the middle of a drawn sigil. After he’s finished, he gestures for them to sit down, asks for something of Bobby’s, and then starts chanting in Latin once his cap is lying next to the candles and their hands are joined.

The more he talks, the more the lights seem to be flickering, and even though Castiel knows that it’s normal, he can’t help but share Sam’s obvious feeling of discomfort. He finds himself squeezing the hand he’s holding, only to find Sam squeezing back in return

Then the house seems to be starting to shake under them. Castiel throws Sam a calming glance, knowing that this is normal. It’ll only take a few more seconds now…

When the flames of the candles suddenly grow enormously big, Castiel knows they’re through. He nods once at Sam, who then scrapes his throat to clear it, and then he takes a breath.

“Bobby?” Sam begins. Pryce frowns for a moment as he concentrates, but keeps his eyes closed the entire time. “Bobby, can you hear me?”

More silence from the other side. Still, Pryce doesn’t seem to be giving up, so Bobby’s probably listening. Castiel can imagine hearing Sam’s voice so suddenly could startle a man, even in the afterlife.

“Bobby, we need your help,” Sam continues after another encouragement from Castiel. Then, the voice appears. There’s no obvious source of it; it’s just there, hanging over them. It’s faint, and with a bit of an echo in it, but it clear enough for them.

“ _Sam_?” Bobby Singer asks from the other side. The younger hunter lets out a huff of breath in the relief, and Castiel, too, finds himself sighing upon hearing the voice. It’s good to hear him, after all, Castiel hasn’t really seen him since after the wedding, when the Angels had brought them back to Heaven.

“Bobby! Can you hear me?” Sam asks quickly, before he’s getting into detail. Castiel can almost _feel_ Pryce rolling his eyes at them.

“ _Yeah, I can hear you. What’s your voice suddenly doing in the afterlife?”_ Bobby asks then. He doesn’t sound… annoyed, per se, but he doesn’t seem all too excited about it, either.

“Dean’s in trouble, and we need your help in getting him out of it,” Sam explains shortly.

“ _Well, I’m not all that up to date with it all, really, but ‘s far as I know, Dean got himself carrying a future God, is that correct?”_ Bobby asks. Good, so he’s been paying attention for a little bit. At least that way they won’t have to explain it all to him, and can just cover the missing details that are crucial.

“ _Two_ Nephilim, actually,” Castiel still corrects him, and then he hears a sigh from above him.

“ _Of course it had to be twins… Dean’s never really been a fan of fate, has he?”_ Bobby asks. The joke is a bit forced, and nobody finds themselves even smiling at it. Still, they bring the man up to date, explain to him all the things he’s missed ever since after the wedding. And Bobby listens, like he always had back when he was still alive.

Once Sam is finished, there’s another moment of silence. Sam frowns and leans forward a little bit in his chair while looking up. It’s pointless, of course, but since the source of the sound is from above them, Castiel, too, finds himself looking up at the ceiling as well.

“Bobby, you still there?” Sam then asks with worry clear in his tone.

“ _Yeah, Sam, it’s just… real good to hear your voices again_ ,” Bobby answers truthfully. The emotion in his words is thick and it makes Castiel’s heart ache all of the sudden. He wonders if he could ever live like this; with himself stuck on Earth and with only a psychic the chance to talk to Dean. After all, he’s banished for a century and even if Dean survives this all, there’s no way he’ll live through a hundred years more.

“Yeah, you, too,” Sam returns, pulling Cas out of his thoughts. It’s better, because his mind was going into dark places.

“ _So if I’m understanding right, you need to figure a way to keep Dean alive after the boys are born_?” Bobby then asks, indeed speaking out their main goal.

“Pretty much, yeah,” Sam returns.

“ _So, just another day at the office for you boys, huh? Put Dean on the line,”_ Bobby calls. The Angel and the Hunter quickly turn to look at each other in a slight moment of panic.

“Dean’s not here,” Sam begins. They can almost feel the sigh coming from Bobby, and it’s almost as horrible as a scolding. At least now Castiel knows that his uneasy feeling about this is all is not for nothing.

“ _So once again you’re going behind his back,”_ Bobby states, summing it up very easily. Castiel throws Sam a short look, already sensing that this is getting out of hand. Pryce is already frowning from the concentration; Castiel is not sure how much longer he’s going to be able to handle this.

“Well, yeah, he’s not actively _looking_ for a solution,” Sam objects to that in an attempt to justify their actions. “He’s throwing cases in our way and distracts us all from the research we’re doing constantly!”

 _“Then haven’t you thought that_ maybe _Dean doesn’t want to be saved?”_ Bobby asks. Castiel feels himself turn cold on the spot, and he knows his shock is showing on his face. Sam, too, looks exactly how  the Angel’s feeling. It’s almost like a slap in the face.

Bobby’s not going to help them, is he?

“Of course he does, Bobby,” Sam counters, but the older hunter immediately interrupts him again.

“ _Most of the crap you’ve been through has often been a result of you two not properly communicating, Sam Winchester. You keep things hidden and after it gets out, you get angry and something bad happens. Maybe you should just start to be open about things. If you want to save Dean, get him to join in the process. Let him decide over his life.”_

“I’m losing him,” Pryce suddenly says, and Castiel can feel the hold on his hand getting stronger as he speaks. The man is squeezing his eyes shut and obviously it’s quite an effort to keep the contact between them and Bobby.

“So you won’t help us?” Sam asks, disappointment thick in his voice. Castiel can’t even begin to imagine how the hunter must be feeling right at this moment.

“ _No, Sam. Before you can save Dean, he must want to save himself,”_ Bobby’s voice says, but it’s already fading a little bit. Pryce is losing his grasp over him. “ _It’s not that I don’t want to help him, boy. I just don’t think it’s a good idea going behind his back – again.”_

“I can’t hold him anymore,” Pryce says, and after that, the contact is lost. There’s no more voice above them, and he’s already let go of their hands to put his own on his head, obviously hurting from the effort he’s put in keeping this conversation going. Castiel wishes he could heal him from this hurting, but doing so will leave him unconscious for probably another hour.

Sam is very quiet from where he’s seated, eyes staring straight ahead of him. He’s probably disappointed, having expected that Bobby would be helping them. But Castiel can understand Bobby’s point of view on this as well.

“He wasn’t alone,” Pryce then suddenly says with the palms of his hands pressed against his eyes, as if he’s just been staring into a light that’s too bright. “There was another one of you.” With that, he points at Castiel with his elbow.

Another Angel was there? Then how did this conversation even still take place?

“What did the Angel look like?” Castiel asks. Pryce finally pulls his hands away, revealing red eyes from where he’s been rubbing them. He looks like he’s been crying all the day.

“A girl, thick brown hair, she was eating some candy,” Pryce clarifies. “But she was threatening him, boys.”

Gabriel… of course, Castiel could have expected that. It was not all too hard to guess what their next move would have been, so it’s only logical that she went straight to him the moment they made contact with him.

“What did she say?” Castiel asks.

“She said that Bobby had to refuse, or she would kill Sam,” Pryce says after a moment’s hesitation. His eyes fall on Sam for a short moment, and now the hunter has looked up again. A bit of the disappointment in his face leaves again, revealing another hope.

“So, he only disagreed because she was there?” he asks. Pryce only nods in confirmation. Sam lets out a sigh, and then just stands up, reaching out for his wallet in his back pocket. “Listen, thank you for your help, Mr. Pryce. We’ll leave you alone, now.”

With that he hands a few bills towards the man, and then he starts making his way back to the door. Castiel just frowns, watching the hunter disappear again. Pryce still seems disoriented about it all, and he’s taking a few deep breaths.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out. I’m sure you two love this Dean very much,” Pryce tells the Angel after a little while. Castiel lets his eyes fall on him for a moment, and then nods.

“I love him more than anything in the world, and I can’t stand the idea of losing him, but, even though Bobby just said that to protect Sam, he was still right,” Castiel says truthfully, knowing that the man can’t read his mind so he might as well say it all. “It eats at me to do things behind his back. From now on, we’ll look for a solution, together.”

And with that, he says the man goodbye and leaves the house as well, following the younger hunter back into the car that is going to drive them home again.

 

* * *

 

 

_Meanwhile, Men Of Letters HQ_

_“Jonah and Alan, huh? I like those names.”_

Dean smiles with his phone pressed against his cheek. He’s currently busy with putting the freshly ironed clothes back into the dresser, separating Cas’ clothes for his own. The Angel doesn’t have much yet, but his inventory of it has actually quite grown yet.

His phone is sandwiched between his head and his shoulder, and he’s already starting to feel a cramp in his neck from the annoying position, but at least this way he’s keeping himself busy instead of just nervously walking around.

“Yeah, it does have a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?” Dean agrees. It’s been a while since he’s actually talked to Lauren, so it’s a great relief to finally hear her voice again on the other side of the line. From as far as he knows, she’s back from England. She’s even texted him her new address, and Dean’s already made the promise of checking out her house soon enough.

“So you found a job yet?” Dean asks when he can’t really find anything else to talk about. He’s been avoiding the subject ‘Sam’ for the thirty minutes that they’ve already been calling, and explaining to her that these last few months will be his last as a living person isn’t also something he shouldn’t be doing through the phone.

“ _Well, not yet. There aren’t so many lawyer-opportunities here in Lebanon, so I either have to start my own little company, or I have to check a firm from our neighbors. Either way, I’ll probably need a car, first.”_

Dean clicks his tongue together as he picks up another shirt from the tray and folds it quickly before adding it in the drawer. “Lau, you know we’ve got many cars here. You need one, you can personally pick one. It’s not like we’re going to drive with all of them!”

“ _Yeah, but those are old cars, Dean!”_ Lauren counters. “ _I’ll probably need to have them checked quite regularly, and that’ll probably cost me as much money as a new one would. Besides, what if one of those cars is cursed?”_

“Hah! Don’t be silly, Lau!” Dean laughs. When his hand can’t find any more clothes, he closes the lid of the drawer with his hips and picks up the tray before making his way out of his and Cas’ bedroom. A little further away, Linda is just getting inside a room with her own bundle of clothes. Kevin is in the main hall, using the vacuum to clean the place and get rid of the dust that has begun to collect here. About an hour ago, Dean has busied himself with cleaning the kitchen. He’d had music in his ears back then, mostly just to avoid a conversation with Linda, who has been acting worried since yesterday evening.

“ _Don’t mock me, Dean Winchester! I don’t know as much about cars as you do!_ ” Lauren defends herself in her fake-angry tone. Dean recognizes it immediately, so he’s not all that worried about having insulted her.

“Okay, Lau, you take one of our cars, and I’ll check it over whenever it needs a check-up, good?” Dean tries, not thinking too much about how short that promise is actually going to be. On the other side of the line, Lauren makes a thinking noise. As if she even needs to think this over…

“ _Okay, you got yourself a deal, then, Winchester,”_ Lauren returns with an obvious tone of enthusiasm in her voice. “ _Also, whenever you’re going for your next check-up with the doctor’s, mind if I tag along? I’d like to see the two little rugrats with my own two eyes!”_

And then Dean starts to think about when he’s actually meeting the doctor next. It can’t be too far away, since he’s supposed to visit him once a month for the first twenty-eight weeks. After that, Linda said it’s best to visit once every two weeks up until the thirty-sixth week. After that, it’s weekly. And since it’s actually already been a month now since she last went, it’s probably better to go again, now, right?

Quickly, he gets to the kitchen and goes to check on the calendar. His next visit is this Friday, actually, and it’s Wednesday, now. So, quickly, he passes her the details, and they set up a meeting point where Dean will pick her up. After that, they hang up, leaving Dean back with his many thoughts. When his stomach grumbles, he looks down for a moment.

“Now, the question is, am I hungry, or are _you_ hungry?” Dean asks, mostly as a joke since he knows that the two can’t really be ‘hungry’ in that way. Besides, they’re already eating away all of Dean’s reserves. It would be quite the adventure if he’d actually have to _feed_ them as well.

“Dean, we’re back!” Cas’ voice suddenly yells back from the main hall, and Dean immediately turns around. Maybe he can convince Cas to take him out into town and actually get something _good_ to eat instead of Linda’s crappy food. Somehow she still doesn’t understand that Dean doesn’t need to follow this shitty diet since nothing can happen to the twins. Dean, though, has also just given up trying to explain it to her. That lady somehow always needs to get what she wants.

“I’m in the kitchen!” Dean shouts back, and after that he hears footsteps nearing, meaning that Cas is on his way there. He quickly picks up the sweater that’s lying on a chair and puts it on. Cas already knows about the weight loss, but he seems less worried about it when he can’t see it.

“I’m happy to see you,” Cas says, walking closer to Dean and asking for a quick kiss. Dean instead wraps his arms around him, gives him a quick peck on his lips, and then leans his head on the Angel’s shoulder as he clings to him.

“Hmmm,” Dean just hums, unable to form any words at the moment. All he needs right now is to touch him, and hold him close, mostly because it calms the twins down almost immediately. Not that they were panicking at the time, but happy twins is always better than okay twins.

“Dean, I need to tell you something,” Cas then says. He puts his hands on Dean’s arms and pulls him away slightly, making him sit down on the chair next to him. Dean can’t help but frown as he wonders what’s going to come, next.

“This so-called hunt we went on, it wasn’t actually a hunt,” Cas explains. Dean’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Don’t tell me you’re cheating on me with my brother?” Dean tries as a joke. Of course he knows both Sam and Cas wouldn’t do that, but still there’s this slight fear. The two _have_ been hanging around a lot since Dean is deemed unfit to go on any more hunts. Cas just rolls his eyes as an answer, and that calms Dean’s nerves for a little bit.

“We wanted to talk to Metatron and find some way to save you, but Gabriel and his troops keep on stopping us,” the Angel explains gently. His hands take Dean’s into his own and he lifts Dean’s fingers to his lips to press a small kiss on it. “After that, we were planning to ask Bobby for help to break Metatron out, instead.”

Dean’s eyes open in alarm. That’s pretty big, and it sounds dangerous enough! Not only for Cas or Sam, but for Bobby as well. The Angels might actually punish him if he were ever caught, and Dean doesn’t really want to think about that at all!

“Please tell me you kept him out of it?” Dean begs of his husband, but the Angel just sighs in return.

“We went to a psychic who helped us talk with him, but he refused to help. Afterwards it turned out he only refused because Gabriel was going to kill Sam if Bobby agreed to help.”

Kill Sam? Dean pulls his hands back and balls them into fists almost immediately. If he were an animal, he would already be growling right now. There’s a sudden wave of anger going through him at the mere thought of Gabriel even hurting Sam.

“If Gabriel ever dares to touch him…!” Dean snaps while baring his teeth. He’s only pulled out of his rage when Cas puts his hand onto his shoulder to get his attention again. “Why would they even agree to kill Sam? Aren’t we all on the ‘must-keep-alive’ list?”

“I guess you are, but Sam clearly isn’t,” Cas admits sadly. He lowers his head for a moment in his typical way of apologizing. Dean then simply shakes his head.

“Though I’m not really happy you went behind my back with this, I’m still glad you decided to come clean with me,” Dean says calmly. Touching Cas really helps him with keeping his cool. “Thank you, Cas.”

“You’re welcome, Dean,” Cas answers in return. The two share a short smile, and then the Angel gets up to unpack his bag. “Sam is coming right away with some pizzas for dinner.”

Dean just nods, standing up as well then to prepare the table. His eyes rest on Cas for a moment as he watches him go, and he can’t help the slight smile passing over his face at the thought that Cas felt guilty about keeping it secret. As it turns out, this thing between them, of not keeping secrets anymore… it works. Because Dean feels kind of relieved right now. Also, though, that means that he’s going to have to spill the beans to Cas about Rowena.

The table is set when Sam finally enters the bunker, though his face shows that he’s not all that excited about today’s turn of events. They drove quite a distance, and they got nothing to show for it, but honestly; Dean is just happy they’ve returned at all. So when Sam sits down on his usual spot, Dean fetches some beers for him, Linda and Cas, and then quickly grabs some soda for himself and Kevin. It’s a bit strange, knowing that their little household used to be a _little_ bit bigger only a few weeks ago, with Crowley and Lauren joining them. Though they don’t miss Crowley as much, Lauren’s absence does feel like a constant sting; especially upon seeing his brother so unhappy lately.

They eat together, and they laugh together, and Kevin plays some sort of game with Cas that makes Dean cackle out a loud laugh, and right now, Dean tries not to let Sam’s bad mood get to him. Today’s a day where they can be together in peace again. They can figure their shit out tomorrow.

What Dean doesn’t know, though, is when they all go to sleep, Sam gets out of the bunker and jumps right back into the car he purposely didn’t park into the garage. He drives carefully, and hopes that nobody inside is going to wake up to find him gone. Though, if they _do_ , he might as well say he went for a midnight walk. That’s not completely unlike him.

Rowena must have sensed his hesitation back on the road, because when Sam went to pick up the pizzas earlier, she confronted him again. Only this time, they agreed to get together again, and he promised to listen to her plan. Only then would he decide if it’s worth working with her.

“I don’t trust you,” Sam says when they’re finally seated together in the bar they agreed to meet in. It’s the first thing he tells here when he sees her annoying smirk on her pale face. “And I never will, but I need help. I need my brother to survive this Prophecy, and you spoke about binding his soul…”

Rowena just smiles even more and leans forward a little bit to rest her chin on her fist.

“Shall we discuss terms?” she then asks.

“Whatever you want,” Sam returns, knowing that he’s sounding quite desperate at the moment, but that’s also exactly how he’s feeling.

“The Colt,” is her answer, and it’s immediate and short. There’s no hesitation in her voice, as if she’s actually been thinking about her terms for a while now. San can’t help but frown. The Colt? They seem to have forgotten all about that gun in a while now, right? After trying to shoot Lucifer with it, Cas transported it with them during their escape. They had thrown the thing into the trunk, and never really pulled it out again unless whenever they needed to change cars during that whole Leviathan-fiasco. And after Bobby was gone, they didn’t have anyone who knew how to make the bullets for it, so they decided to spare them in case of any real emergency. But why would Rowena want that gun?

“No,” Sam says instinctively, feeling his hands ball into fists at the mere thought of offering her the gun.

“Oh, you can keep the bullets if that’s what you’re afraid of,” Rowena assures him. “I only need the gun.”

Sam looks at her for a long time, trying to figure out what she’s up to, but already knowing that he won’t find out by her face alone. She looks smug, as if she’s going to be the only one winning here. And Sam knows that she’s taking advantage of his weak spot – Dean will _always_ be his weak spot – but right now, it doesn’t matter anymore. Dean is the most important thing here, and if the Colt has to go for him to live, then Sam would gladly offer it to her. Still, he needs to know that he’s not going to start another Apocalypse by accident.

“Why?”

“I need it for a spell, to track down all the witches that banished me all those years ago and made me leave my son,” she says. Sam isn’t sure if he can trust her. This might as well be bull she’s telling him, but how can he know for sure?

Oh, right, he can’t.

“Fine, I will give you the Colt,” Sam says, knowing it’s in the trunk of his car since it’s the one they’ve used on their last hunt. He almost stands up, but stops himself right away.

“But first I need to know what your plan is for Dean,” Sam says. He just needs to be sure. Rowena’s smile grows even wider and she crosses her fingers together.

“There’s a spell, once created by Nadya, Grand Coven Witch,” Rowena begins.

“Where do I find her?” Sam says before she can continue.

“You don’t. She’s dead, murdered long ago for her life’s work,” Rowena continues. Sam sighs. Great, now it comes… “But she wrote everything down in her codex, which is something you _can_ find. Bring me the codex, and I can perform the spell for Dean.”

Sam gives her a long look, wondering if he should just stop this all and just return home. This is probably not the best idea, and Dean will surely get enormously pissed once he returns and confesses it all.

But on the other hand, Dean might not be there long enough to get pissed in the first place.

“Where do I look for it?” he asks.

“If I were you I’d start at home,” she answers as if it’s the most logical thing in the world. When Sam throws her a confused glance, she suddenly gets angry without a warning. “Who do you think murdered Nadya and stole her codex in the first place?”

What is she…? She couldn’t mean… “The Men of Letters?” Sam asks.

Rowena, in turn, just smiles again.

For the whole night, Sam keeps himself busy with research. After learning the estimated date of Nadya’s death, Sam immediately heads towards the section of that time the moment he gets home (and makes sure that all the others are sound asleep).

It’s mostly going back and forth, and it’s already four in the night when he’s planning on giving up for now when suddenly he finds an audio recording that looks promising.

And it is, especially mentioning the witch and the codex, and giving Sam enough to go on. So after a short call to Rowena, who he actually woke up in his attempt to get some advice, Sam hops into the car and starts his seven hour drive to Missouri.

By the time he gets there, it’s twelve in the morning, having a delay of an hour because of the quick breakfast he took on the way. The sun is almost at its highest, but it’s still not enough to completely warm him up in this normal spring temperature. His legs and back are stiff from the long drive, and surely the others have noticed his sudden disappearance, though they still haven’t called. Maybe they’re all sleeping in? At the same time?

No, that would just be coincidental.

Looking at the house, and the clear negligence of its care, Sam would just figure that it’s empty or abandoned. So he can be honest when he says that he didn’t expect to have a gun pointed towards his crotch through the mail slot when he tried to pick the lock.

“Bad idea,” a woman’s voice says, and Sam immediately holds up his hands in clear surrender.

“I- I can explain!” Sam immediately says, trying to act innocent but knowing already that it won’t work.

“Yeah, don’t bother,” the woman says. “You got three choices; get arrested, get your bits blown off, or get back.”

It’s clear what Sam choses, so with one last apology he walks back towards the car with his hands still raised above his head, and quickly he gets back inside and all too aware that the woman must still be watching him.

Now, it’s safe to say that things have been going crazy lately, so Sam is almost ready to just shout it out in frustration when his door suddenly opens and his brother dryly comes to sit down next to him as if he’s supposed to be here all along.

“Hey ya, Sammy. How’re you doin’?”

Oh. That’s his angry-voice. Or at least his female angry voice. He’s not looking all too happy at this moment, and somehow, Sam is almost afraid of what he’s supposed to say, next.

“What are you doing here?” Sam dares to ask, but the face Dean makes isn’t all too happy. Still, Sam shouldn’t be afraid of his own brother; he knows Dean would never hurt him. It’s actually mostly the twins that he’s scared about, so he makes sure to keep his voice down.

“Finding out why my brother runs away in the middle of the night right after being all moody-gloomy on us the previous evening,” Dean answers shortly. His eyes are still squeezed tight and his lips are still curled downward in an obvious scowl.

“It’s a seven hour long drive, Dean?” Sam notices, but upon seeing his brother’s face, he realizes that’s not exactly the best thing to bring up right now.

“Exactly, Sam!” Dean shouts back angrily, but then he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. “What on Earth is important enough to drive seven hours for?”

“I just-“ Sam begins, but then he looks down, not really sure what he’s supposed to say, here. “I did some research, and I found that there’s been some deaths here a few years back that were never really explained.”

Dean just looks at him for a moment, not seeming to believe a word he’s saying.

“And this has to do with us, how?” Dean then snaps. Sam just sighs in return.

“This house used to be a Men of Letters chapter house. There’s this guy, Magnus, who got expelled, but before that he built Werther; a magical box with a deadly alarm system.”

Dean nods, a signs that Sam can continue.

“Werther is buried somewhere in that house. It was supposed to have been guarded, but I’m guessing that plan went out the window when Abaddon massacred the entire membership in ’58. For a while, the house was abandoned, but then one day a family moved in. Not too long afterwards, three of the four household members killed themselves without explanation. This Werther’s a time bomb, and it needs to be defused. It’s our responsibility.”

Wow, Sam’s actually quite proud of himself to pull this one off without making it sound like a complete lie. He’s glad he did his research of the house before leaving. But he should have made sure that Dean was still asleep when he drove away.

“Our responsibility?” Dean asks in confusion.

“We’re Men of Letters. It’s our Legacy,” Sam answers. Dean then sighs as well, leaning his head back and licking his lips before then clapping his hands together.

“You should have asked Cas to come along,” Dean mutters. Sam is sure that he’s feeling conflicted on whether or not he should go in with Sam, given his promise not to hunt anymore. Sam would also feel like a jerk to send him all the way back to Lebanon, having made that drive for nothing.

“Well, there is a way for you to help without getting you in direct danger,” Sam then says. It’s also a way for him to get into that basement without Dean following him, and that way he wouldn’t see Sam taking the codex with him.

So after explaining the plan, Dean goes to the front door and knocks. It gets a bit dangerous when the woman opens the door and points the gun at Dean immediately, but Sam sees her pulling away right afterwards, looking a bit confused right then.

He smirks when Dean manages to slip inside; nobody suspects a pregnant woman, Sam realizes, and wonders why they don’t bring Dean along for hunts more often?

Oh, right, because he’s actually a killing-machine.

After giving Dean enough time, Sam moves to pick the lock of the back door, hoping that there’s no alarm system – or maybe an angry twin guarding the other door. The relief passes over him when he’s inside and nothing happened. Silently, he walks into the house, making sure not to touch anything.

The kitchen is messy; or no, the whole house actually is. There are clothes on the ground, and books on the chairs. More often than not there’s just random crap lying around, and Sam really has to pay close attention to where he walks.

When the tea-kettle suddenly starts whistling, he almost feels as if his heart is going to stop beating. Immediately he moves back into the hallway he came from, and he presses his back against the nearest wall. Of course, if the woman would turn around, she would notice him immediately, but he didn’t have enough time to get further.

Then suddenly Dean comes to stand right into his view, making it impossible for the woman to see him if she would turn around. With his hand he motions for Sam to continue, but the hunter still takes a few more seconds to calm his heart and get his breathing back in order. He can hear Dean striking some more conversation from the kitchen, but he doesn’t pay attention to it, instead already working on picking the lock towards the basement.

It turns out easier than expected, and as quickly as he can he runs downstairs with his flashlight raised right next to his head. Getting down is the easy part, he realizes when his light shines upon the furniture stacked against the wall. He stops himself from groaning in frustration; he’s going to have to pull everything away one by one without making too much noise. This might take a while, and he’s not sure Dean can give him that time.

A chair almost drops in his hands, and it smashes against another one, making some noise. Sam squeezes his eyes shut and makes a painful face at the stupid mistake. He holds his breath, trying to stay as quiet as possible in order to hear if anybody would be going down the basement. Luckily, no-one does, so he continues.

Once he’s through, he doesn’t waste time. He fishes out the ingredients he’s collected for the spell Rowena offered him, and kneels down in front of the thing that looks like a safe from a quick look of it.

“Purificare la Magia,” Sam says after he’s finished preparing and put the ingredients on fire, just like Rowena instructed. Faintly, he hears Dean call out for him, but instead of replying he repeats the words again. The sudden pressure really doesn’t help, especially if the woman keeps on screaming upstairs. With a bit of hesitation, Sam reaches for the handle of the box, and then, just like ripping off a bandage, he pulls it open.

 

* * *

 

 

_Meanwhile, upstairs_

It’s never really easy, trying to keep your heartbeat down to normal speed. Mostly it needs for Dean to take a couple of long breaths and counting from ten to zero, and mostly he doesn’t have a gun pointed towards him with an angry, crazy woman holding it and swinging it so wildly.

“You let it out!” the woman suddenly shouts when they hear some sort of sound coming from downstairs. Dean still has his hands up in the air, wondering if the woman would really shoot down a pregnant lady. She’s got the crazy covered, sure, but would she really be able to do _that_?

Dean doesn’t really know what he’s seeing when suddenly some sort of green smoke rises up from the hallway. His first thought is ‘demon!’, but then he’s reminded once more that there are no more demons on Earth.

He doesn’t have time to think about it before the smoke gets into his eyes and Dean is blinded for a moment. He blinks a few time and lets out a long breath, but then he just shakes his head and looks up again, only to see Sam run op to them with his hands raised in the air.

“You have any idea what you’ve done?” Suzie asks angrily. Forget crazy, she sounds completely lunatic right now.

“Put the gun down, we can talk about this, okay?” Sam says in his typical formal way. But after that, Dean’s sight seems to blur away for a moment. Once again he squeezes his eyes shut and he rubs through them to clear his view. Meanwhile, it seems like the sound around him starts to fade away.

“Oh my god,” he still manages to hear Suzie say, and when he opens his eyes he can barely see her pointing her gun in his direction.

“What’s wrong with her?” Dean asks Sam, hoping that Mr. Mysterio might be able to offer him some answer.

“I don’t know,” is the answer, and Dean can only barely catch it. Suzie just keeps on throwing warnings their way, but something in Dean tells him that it’s not them she’s talking to.

And someone hallucinating and holding a gun at the same time rarely is a good idea. Oh, why didn’t he just stay at home? Why couldn’t he just be the good husband and take care of his sick Angel who is now lying in bed with some sort of stomach ache that started around five in the morning?

With a push, Dean gets his brother out of that room. Just in time, so it seems, since there’s a loud enough gunshot right behind him the moment they’re out. Dean is trying to keep his focus on the things in front of him, but finds that it’s more difficult than anticipated. Quickly, he turns to Sam.

“What are you doing?” he says angrily, getting close to actually push the guy. “You don’t have a plan, you don’t have a defense…” Still, Sam doesn’t get the chance to answer him when they suddenly hear Suzie cry out. Sam runs back to her, but when Dean plans to follow him, there’s this sudden noise behind him that gets his attention instead.

He doesn’t speak, but instead moves closer to the source of the sound – whatever it might be. His feet make noise as they walk onto the wooden floor, but then suddenly the noise stops. When he looks down, there’s dirt and branches underneath his feet.

But then, after looking up and down again, the dirt is gone. Sadly, the sound isn’t, suddenly coming back from behind him again. Quickly, Dean turns around…

Only to find himself back into the cursed, colorless woods of Purgatory.

What the…? He looks around in confusion, hands still stiffly to his side as he remembers that he didn’t bring along any weapons – why would he even need any? He wasn’t supposed to get in harm’s way!

“Sam?” Dean hisses, hoping that it’s all just some stupid joke, and that he’s actually _not_ in Purgatory. Still, there’s no answer from his brother. There’s actually no sound at all; There’s no wind in these woods, no animals. The only source of noise would be from the other monsters, but they have quickly learned to stay away from him while he’d been looking for Cas. The only monsters brave enough to go after him were the Leviathans, and still those only came when Cas was around.

As it turns out, one of the Leviathans didn’t get the memo. After walking around the woods to make sure he’s not hallucinating, Dean’s suddenly pushed against a tree by something much stronger than hum. Where Dean had expected for the twins to act out in defense, they didn’t, leaving Dean powerless against the monster with no possible way of fighting him.

He can barely think when the ugly monster shows its true face and opens its mouth to eat him, so there seems to be a chunk of time missing when one minute he’s held by a Leviathan, and the other the monster’s head rolled down on the floor.

Dean feels close to curse. There are so many things happening right now, and he can’t even begin to describe anything. To make it worse, after the body of the Leviathan falls down on the ground, he’s faced by his savior. His eyes go wide, and his mouth falls open as a long breath escapes his lungs.

“Emma?” he asks, finding his own daughter standing there with a big self-made knife in her hand. The way she looks is exactly like he can remember her from the last time he saw her, and he doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or not.

“Hello, dad,” she says with a slight smirk on her face. There’s dried blood all over her body, and her blonde short hair is bloodied and just plain dirty.

“No way,” Dean mutters out, straightening up and pushing himself from the tree. Now he’s absolutely sure he just shouldn’t have gotten out of bed. The memory of Emma has been one that never left his lips and has always stayed inside his head; even Cas doesn’t know about her, which really means something.

Instead of trying to talk to her, Dean starts walking away. He doesn’t recognize the trees he’s walking through, but he’s sure he’ll eventually get somewhere he can remember. He might have been walking for hours, ignoring his estranged daughter walking behind him as she follows and keeps on calling out after him to get his attention.

Dean eventually gets frustrated when _nothing_ seems to be recognizable. These trees are obviously from Purgatory, but he can’t place them anywhere. It’s like a whole different part of the forest he’s never actually even been in.

“Come on, dad! Don’t give me the silent treatment! There’s so much you need to catch me up on!” Emma calls out, almost begging on the spot. This time, though, Dean turns back around to her without stopping his steps, and he points his finger at her figure.

“Look, it’s good to see you, okay? But I told you before, you’re not Emma.”

And with that he turns back around. He’s one hundred percent sure that it’s a hallucination, probably something to do with the green smoke that Suzie-woman had been so scared off back in the house. Right now, all that matters is for him to get out of there.

“I’m not real? Damnit!” the girl behind him calls out in disappointment. Dean is already familiar with her sarcasm, having heard it for almost half a year after finding her in the woods. He can remember her feral face when she’d found him. She had her weapon pointed at him while he lay on the ground with her whole body keeping him there. Their eyes had looked into each other for quite a long time, and then after a while, she had stepped back and helped him up.

Dean remembers how she told him her mother was here, too, by now. How they stayed together for a little while but she eventually left her when it turned out that Emma was an interesting target for all the other monsters around, simply for being Dean Winchester’s daughter. Nobody knows how the fact got out, but it ended up with everybody chasing down the only offspring of the hated hunter just to get their share of revenge. She, in turn, had to learn all alone how to defend herself.

“Listen, sweety, I’m bummed out, too, but you’re just a figment. You’re subconscious junk my brain’s throwing up to distract me from getting back to reality,” Dean says, mostly to himself rather than to the girl behind him, not caring that he’s being quite rude to his hallucination.

“Figment? Junk?” Emma calls out with a bitter tone. “I know I wasn’t exactly planned in your life, but I thought we’d at least gotten to a point where we would call ourselves family?” Dean knows she’s joking by the sudden playful tone at the end of her sentence. “But, if all I am is your subconscious junk, well, then how can I lead you wrong?”

Dean huffs but ignores her, passing by another fallen tree. It’s the third one already.

Strange…

“Well, how about that? A perfect circle!” Emma exclaims loudly, pointing at the tree. So she’s probably right, and Dean might have been walking around in circles, but he’s _really_ sure that he’s always gone forward, never straying from his imaginary path. As it turns out, he can’t even stick to his plans in his own head.

By the time he passes the tree again, Dean knows that this is not natural. Behind him, Emma makes another joke Dean doesn’t really catch. His mind is already going through possible explanations, the one that’s most plausible is that there’s magic involved. Dean, of course, _hates_ magic and everything that has to do with it.

“Emma, whoever you are, I need to get out of here,” Dean says to the figure that looks like his daughter but surely isn’t. The Emma in front of him just laughs in his face.

“’Need’ and ‘Want’ are two different things, daddy-dearest,” she says withtout helping him at all. “It’s all a figment, right? You, me, left, right. But no matter which way you turn, you keep ending up here. You’ve got to wonder why _this_ figment? Why _this_ place?”

Fine, Dean’ll bite. “What are you saying?” he asks, not even trying to conceal his annoyance.

“Nothing you don’t already know,” Emma answers. “This is where you want to be – your happy place. All in all, you don’t really want to leave.”

Dean just snorts. “Don’t be ridiculous, I have a happy place and it’s _far away_ from here, I can assure you!” Dean counters. Emma just nods but her face looks serious now.

“Right, your Angel. You married him, even having babies with him, right?” With that, she points towards Dean’s swollen belly. The twins have been surprisingly quiet, Dean finds. He wonders if he should be worried. Normally they act out whenever Dean’s in danger, and the hunter’s quite sure that his situations are not all that optimal right now. Why aren’t they doing anything?

“Remember what you said to me and Benny when we first got here? About the purity of this place?” Emma starts. Dean decides he’s gotten enough of it and quickens his pace, actively trying to get away from his place _and_ his daughter at the same time. This can’t be happening. His brain can’t just start telling him stuff like this, especially when he’s so sure that his true happy place is lying sick in bed all the way back in Kansas. His head can’t start to make him doubt like this, because he knows that it’s an uneasy job, but at the same time it’s his _own head_.

“Dean, slow down! Stop, listen to me!” Emma calls out after him. “This place, you don’t have to go looking for a fight! All you have to do is sit still for one moment, and then the fight will come to you. That’s why you’re here, Dean. That’s the challenge you crave, a chance to kill, but with no consequence!”

“No!” Dean shouts back at the figure of the young girl. It’s still strange to see her standing there, but she looks so real to him. “I don’t want to fight anymore, I’m tired of it!”

But Emma just shakes her head in denial. “That’s not true, and you know it. You’ve been craving for hunts for weeks now, always being denied by the people you call closest to you. How could they do that?”

Dean stays quiet while he stands still on the spot, hands balled into fists and breath becoming harder in a sudden flash of anger.

“So now you don’t want to stay, but it’s clear you also can’t leave. We’re a bit stuck, right?” Emma asks. Dean startles a bit when she’s coming to stand right behind him, her hands almost touching him but just not quite yet. “Good thing there’s a third way out. I mean, you’re going to die, either way.”

“No,” Dean counters angrily, pulling away from her in a turn, looking her right in her green eyes. “I’m never going to do that.”

“Come on, dad,” Emma smiles again while taking another step forward. She’s fumbling with her weapon in her hands, looking as if she’s not all that sure what to do with it. “You did hear all those Angels, didn’t you? They hear Nephilim and immediately think ‘abomination’. Is that what you want to bring into the world? Even _you_ are not sure what will become of them!”

“I’m not murdering my children,” Dean presses on, but there’s a hint of truth in his words. He _does_ have no clue what the Nephilim are capable off. Nobody can really tell them and as far as he knows, they are even stronger than Angels.

“Even so, you’ll bring them in a life full of danger. They’ll be hunted all their lives. You’ll have to stay on the road all the time. You can’t send them to a normal school. They’ll have to live the same way you and your brother did: _in a car_.”

“Shut up!” Dean shouts, knowing full well that her words are actually words that have already passed his mind, but have never left his own mouth. These are just the usual worries he keeps for himself.

 

 

“And you won’t even _be_ there! Cas will have to do all of it, alone, with Sam! And that is, if Sam won’t find a family of his own. You really think the Angel can handle that? Come on, isn’t it better if we just stop it now before it gets too bad?”

And with that, she hands him her weapon.

“Nobody needs to know. What happens in Purgatory, stays in Purgatory,” she tells him. With that, Dean takes the weapon out of her hands. His mind is a mess, the internal debate is almost becoming too much for him. Of course he would never want to do this, but what life will they have? They won’t have a home, every Angel in Heaven wants them dead, and then one day, against their will, one of them will have to be the ruler of Heaven. Free will, it will not apply to them because everything has already been written down for them.

They won’t be living. They’ll just be surviving.

When Dean’s eyes go up again, his attention is not put on the imagination of his daughter in front of him, but on the two small figures on each side of her. They are kids, looking about seven years old each, both of them with light brown hair – though the one on the left seems to have hair a shade darker. They look so small and fragile, and their eyes stare back at him sadly.

He doesn’t need to ask who they are, he already knows.

“You need to wake up, now,” the boy with the darker hair says. Dean’s mind immediately connects him with Alan. The name fits, as well. “We’ve been fighting the initial power of the magic, but to get free of it must be an act of your own.”

The other boy just nods. Then he walks forward, followed by his brother. He holds out his hand for his father to take, and Dean does, actually _feeling_ Jonah’s hand in his own. A loud sob suddenly escapes his lips, and only then does he realize that he’s been crying. Damn these hormones. On the other side, Alan, too, holds out his hand, but instead on waiting for Dean, he takes his without asking. And like that, Dean Winchester is standing in the middle of Purgatory, holding the hands of the two hallucinations of his children with his third standing right in front of him.

“You see how strong they are?” Emma asks, pulling Dean out of the little moment of peace he’s been having. He lets go of the twins’ hands and holds the weapon in his hand a little bit tighter. “It’s their first instinct; to protect themselves. That’s why you’ve killed innocent human beings. They’re a force you can’t control.”

“You’re right, I can’t control them. But you know what I _can_ control?”

Emma frowns in confusion, unable to answer. With the weapon in his hand, he reaches forward and quickly stabs her in her stomach. “You,” Dean whispers to her, and after that, she fades away, along with the weapon in his hand. When he feels a warm feeling in his stomach, he knows that the twins’ subconscious are back inside, and that they are pleased he got them out of this place.

And he _is_ out; after taking a good look, he finds that he’s no longer in Purgatory, instead back into Suzie’s living room. In his hand there’s a broken bottle, and the moment he notices it it’s already on the ground. Shattering into pieces.

“Sam!” Dean shouts, shaking his stiff arms and legs for a moment and turning his head back and forth to get that strange ache out of it. There’s no answer, but while he walks around he does notice Suzie’s dead body lying on the floor. He can’t help but feel sorry for her; all she’s ever tried is to keep people away from the box, and then they barge in and she has to pay for it. Hopefully now she can finally get some rest.

In a quick pace Dean marches down the stairs towards the basement he had seen Sam go down to. There’s still quite a mess, and despite the faint little lightbulb it’s still pretty dark. More often than not he walks against some boxes.

“Sam?!” Dean shouts again. He hears a faint sigh in return not too far away from him. Immediately does he jump into action, following the sound towards a small adjoining room. There he can find his brother leaning against some sort of safe, barely able to move. His wrist is cut open, bleeding into a bowl and filling it.

“Sam!” Dean calls out, running towards his brother. He softly slaps him a few times in the face to get his attention, but Sam can’t seem to focus on him. “Sammy, whatever you’re seeing, it’s a trick, okay? It’s not real!”

“Dean?” Sam whispers, Dean nods, showing a little smile to his brother when he recognizes him at last.

“Yeah,” Dean says, feeling Sam collapse against him. “Hey, no!” Another slap in his brother’s face, only this time a bit harder. Sam jumps up in shot, scrambling away from his brother with a knife raised towards him. His hold is weak, so Dean doesn’t feel like he’s in danger.

“Get away from me! It’s the only way!” Sam tries to shout, but it only sounds a little blurred. Dean pulls the knife from his hand. “It needs Legacy blood. Enough to take a life.” His strength seems to have given out, and Dean rips a piece of his shirt to wrap it around Sam’s bleeding wounds.

“Yeah, well, there’s two legacies here, remember?” Dean answers. He starts to lift up his sleeve and holds Sam’s knife a bit steadier. “If it needs more blood, it can have mine.” Without hesitation he starts to cut his skin on his wrist, making sure not to make it too deep. The drops fall down in the goblet, filling it even more. With the amount of blood already in there, he figures Sam must have been here quite a while already. To think, if Dean had come a bit later, he might have been too late.

It doesn’t take too long for the box to finally open, much to Dean’s surprise. Behind him, Sam is moving again, which is great comfort for Dean. He rips away some more of his shirt and covers his own wound, and after that he opens de door of the box, finding in it some sort of old book.

Whatever this is, if somebody of the Men of Letters gave it such a strong safe, it must be really important.

 

* * *

 

 

_That evening, Men of Letters HQ_

“Dean?”

The hunter in question and the Angel in front of him look up from the table they’re seated at. Dean had come home about an hour earlier, having left as first with his own car with Sam following in the other right behind him. He lost him on the way when his younger brother had been filling up the tank, so it wasn’t that much of a surprise to come back home without him.

“We’re in the kitchen!” Dean calls out, not removing his eyes from the Angel in front of him. Cas looks a bit better than this morning, but he’s clearly still not completely well. His eyes fall shut every few seconds, and he yawns more often than not. According to Linda, he only ate a cracker for dinner and had gone back to bed afterwards. It’s a wonder Dean got him out of bed at all!

Sam joins them in silence and sits down with a loud sigh. He looks tired, too, but that’s probably still from the gigantic blood loss from that spell. The wound on his wrist is cleaned and properly bound, just like Dean’s. Cas had looked at it with some anger and sadness at the same time, but hadn’t mentioned anything. Dean knows he’s not angry at him for joining on this hunt since he didn’t know about it, but that doesn’t mean that the Angel isn’t bitter about it.

“Where’s the book?” Dean asks. Sam lifts up a bag for a few short minutes, but then drops it back down on the ground without picking it up again. “You gonna put it in the archives?”

Sam nods. “In the basement, though, somewhere safe. It could be dangerous,” he says through a yawn, and next to Dean, Cas starts to yawn as well. The Angel is leaning sideways now, resting his head on Dean’s shoulder with his eyes closed. Dean can’t help but go through his hair with his fingers.

“So what did you see?” Sam then asks, giving Dean a serious look. For a long moment, Dean doesn’t say anything. He wonders if he should tell them about Emma, but wonders if Sam would take it wrong. He never even mentioned her to him anymore. Not even Cas knows about her, and after a while, even Dean made himself forget it.

“Purgatory,” Dean says at last. Cas jumps up for a moment, and gives him that look that Dean hates. He’s worried again… great. “There’s something I didn’t tell you about my year there, though.”

And with that, Dean starts telling them about what he’s been through after Cas disappeared on him. How he’d been hunted by monsters, almost killed a few times, how Benny found him. It’s the story they already know. But, then adding Emma to it causes immediate reaction. Sam tenses next to him, and Cas just sighs.

He tells them about how he had to stop Benny from killing her, how she was hunted by all the others just for being a _Winchester_ , and nobody knew how the rumor got out. How she was left by her mother, and all the other stuff.

Sam frowns when Dean explains that she joined him and Benny for half a year, not keeping secret that their first few weeks together were less than ideal with the both of them always on the ready to take out the other if it was necessary. And how, after a while, they actually became friends. It’s actually the most Dean’s ever talked in such a long time, and he’s almost proud of himself.

Of course, then he remembers that he shouldn’t have kept this to himself for all that time.

He speaks of their goodbye, of how she would feel out of place in a world that belongs to humans, and decided to stay there while Dean, Benny and Cas would find their way out. It was shortly after that moment that they found Cas at that lake.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Sam asks a few seconds after Dean’s finished, his voice low but not angry. Dean still can’t find it in himself to meet his eyes, feeling a bit too ashamed for keeping this for so long.

“I don’t know, I just… I felt like I had lost another child. It was just… hard… to talk about it.”

Another sigh comes out, and Dean stands up at last. Both Sam and Cas watch him as he moves, but nobody starts to talk, knowing that it must be hard for Dean. The hunter appreciates it a lot, though.

“So, in that hallucination… I saw her. She was trying to talk me into offing myself, take the easy way out. She made a good case – but of course, she was actually some part of me.”

Sam nods, but Cas seems a bit shocked about that. It is hard to understand that some part inside of Dean seems to have lost the will to live, but Dean knows that it’s only a _small_ part of it.

“I got close to believing her, but then, all of the sudden, the boys showed up. I saw them, Cas. They were beautiful.” And now Cas smiles again, but his eyes seem a bit red from tears. When Dean feels his own eyes sting, he realizes he’s started crying as well. His hand immediately goes to his stomach.

“Seeing them made me understand, made me realize that I can’t give up,” he concludes. “I want to live to see them grow up. I want to live long enough to see grandchildren, even. I want to live long enough to at least hold them.”

Sam nods, a light smile showing on his face.

“You want to live,” Sam repeats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes  
> Emma Winchester  
> Because why not? I felt like her character was wasted when they killed her off and didn't even bother to show her in Purgatory. That, and I love the character that shares my name!


	25. Just for that I should make out with him right on the spot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so that you won't be too confused at the ending; this chapter is a whole lot shorter than the others. This is mostly because I've come to a point where I don't look forward to writing because it's quite the task to make chapters of 40+ pages each time. This is why, now, I've decided to make them shorter again. That way, updates will come a bit faster, and I don't have to worry about reaching my maximum limit all the time!   
> Because of this, I'm adding one more chapter to the total amount, since I'm breaking a few of them up into smaller ones, and I'm removing unneeded details I've added on the planning.   
> I must say, though the ending has been a bit though, I enjoyed writing this chapter much more, and I hope that it will continue like this. We're getting closer to the end now, which is actually really weird but also really satisfying.   
> I also want to warn that, as described, Dean gets a lot skinnier as the time passes by. This is clearly shown in one of the following drawings in the chapter. Just so you won't be too surprised at how sick Dean actually looks.

_Men of Letters, HQ  
26 weeks_

It’s one of those mornings again.

Dean’s just had an amazing night of sleep, made out a little bit with his husband, and has a whole day of nothing planned ahead of him. With that, it’s easy for him to just keep on lying in his bed with his Angel’s head resting against his chest.

Surely, there are better ways to lie, but as it turns out Cas finds comfort in listening to his heartbeat, probably trying to remind himself that Dean is still alive, despite his horribly skinny appearance.

Yeah, right, that’s something that’s getting worse, too. His last visit to the doctor’s hasn’t been all that great, and even Lauren, who had joined him this time, had expressed how worried she is about his current weight. But Dean can tell them he eats even more than he should as much as he wants, they just won’t stop with the fussing over him.

Cas and Sam aren’t that much better, either, but at least they shift their worry over to the research they’re doing now, daily. Of course, it’s still bringing them nowhere and once more Gabriel isn’t answering their prayers, but they can’t stop searching. There are, of course, ways to bind one’s soul onto the Earth, but the problem in that would be that Dean would be stuck as a ghost forever were they to do that. Dean, just on a sidenote, prefers a life where he _can_ actually grow older with his two boys.

“Dean,” Cas suddenly says with his head still resting on Dean’s chest. The hunter finishes his long breath and makes a sound to indicate that he’s listening. His hand in Cas’ hair continuing its slow pacing of massaging his husband’s head. “Your heartbeat is really uneaven.”

Dean just nods, knowing that already; the Doc told him the last time he went to see him, and already warned him that, if it were to continue that way, they would have to go for a C-section when the time is ready. To be honest, the idea of lying on an operating table sounds at least a _tiny_ bit more reassuring than to have to push the two out of his body. As if one of them wouldn’t be enough, fate seems to have decided to give him two of them.

If he would survive, all that would remain would be a small scar on his belly. It’s a small price to pay, but he’s seen a woman give birth already – thanks to Lisa who thought it would be ‘fun’ to bring him along – and he knows already that it’s not the most amusing position to be in.

“Yeah, uh, the doc says my muscle’s getting weaker because of, you know, being skinny,” Dean explains. He closes his eyes for a moment, remembering how the man explained to him that his body is taking all his reserves to keep it steady, even if that means burning away some muscles.

He’s already noticed how he’s much weaker in both his arms and legs. Even making up the bed is starting to become a heavy job, and more often than not does Cas have to do it for him. And after a day of actually doing intense stuff, Dean’s muscles end up sore the morning after, unable to sometimes move out of his bed unless if it’s for going to the bathroom.

He hates what his body is doing to him, and the most depressing part about this is knowing that, if they would fail, this will be how he will be remembered; sick and broken, unable to carry on.

It’s safe to say that the cases are definitely behind them; he’s got nothing more to offer except for holding up a gun sometimes and even then he can’t keep his balance whenever he takes a shot. He knows his eyes are surrounded with dark circles, and his hair is getting weaker by the week. His nails are thin and break easily, and if he’s _really_ tired, he’ll be shaking right up until he’s finally getting his sleep.

“I hate that I can’t help you,” Cas says, but he doesn’t need to. Dean already knows, and he’s already forgiven him multiple times about it. But how can he convince his Angel this? He would feel horrible, too, were he in Cas’ shoes right now. There’s just no way _not_ to feel guilty, for neither of them.

So Dean doesn’t say anything. He can use the silence, dream some more about that hot bath he’s been thinking about. Luckily there’s at least one bath tub in this building, and he’s planning on using it that evening; preferably with his Angel husband, of course.

Their peace is disturbed by an annoying ringing tone coming from the nightstand. Cas doesn’t look up, but Dean does turn his head to the side, noticing it’s not his own cell calling for him.

“It’s yours, Cas,” Dean says, pushing him off him just a little bit to prompt him into taking the thing and stop that annoying noise. Cas just groans in obvious reluctance to move, but eventually he does, leaning onto one arm and grabbing the phone with the other without moving from his spot too much. Once he’s back, he puts the phone between his ear and shoulder and uses his free hand to make tickling patterns onto Dean’s huge belly. The hunter has to keep down his burst of laughter, but pushing away the Angel’s hand proves to be impossible.

“Hello?” Cas says in his typical low voice. As he listens, Dean takes his time to inspects his husband’s face for a moment. It’s only been about nine, maybe ten months since Cas ‘lost’ his powers, but Dean wonders if he’s just imagining the new lines around his eyes.

Cas looks older, but this time for real. Not because of the weight of the world hanging over his shoulder. This time, it seems like they’re actually dealing with one enemy they can’t ever face; Time.

“Yes, this is him,” Cas continues, and his hand finally stops moving. With his arm now free he pushes himself up a little bit, proving that this conversation might actually be serious, whoever it is. “Where did you find her?”

Dean has the sudden urge to grab Cas’ arm and hold on tight. His Angel looks a bit distressed, clearly unsettled by whatever is being told by him. It’s not a look Dean likes on him.

“Yes, we’ll come and get her,” Cas then says, and after telling the person goodbye he drops the phone back down, leans forward, and kisses Dean straight on the mouth. It’s short, it’s a bit uneasy, and also quite a bit sudden. After only two seconds, Cas is out of the bed, picking up some clothes from the floor and starting to get dressed already.

“Who are we going to get?” Dean asks. Cas just sighs as he takes some fresh socks out of the drawer.

“Claire’s in the hospital, she was found unconscious at the back of a bar. Apparently I’m her emergency contact,” Cas says, then tossing some socks to Dean’s lying form. The pair hits Dean right in the face, but instead of being angry, Dean just lets out a light laugh.

“Sounds serious,” Dean says, and with a force does he manage to push himself up, arms almost straining at the effort he has to put into it. “So do we take Sam along or is this more… parenting business?”

Cas stands still for a short second, thinking about Dean’s words. “I’m not her parent, so whatever she’s gotten herself in to, it’s probably not good.”

Dean just translates that into ‘Sam better comes as well’, which is just fine by Dean. With some help from Cas does he finally get up after getting his shoes on, and he takes some of the stretchy t-shirts to wear. When Cas is already out of the room, Dean figures he might as well take his pregnant-proof new FBI-suit with him. Maybe he can’t participate in the fighting part of hunting, but at least he can investigate a bit in a safer way.

Cas returns not too much later. If he notices Dean’s extra set of clothes in the bag, he doesn’t mention it. Instead he grabs the bag, throws it over his shoulder, and offers Dean a hand into leaving the room.

It’s not like Dean will fall down without someone to help him keep his balance, but it probably just calms down Cas’ nerves a little bit, so Dean might just as well indulge him with this.

They get Sam ready quite quickly, but nobody seems to look forward to this five-hour long drive ahead of them. Dean barely manages to convince Sam to let him drive, claiming that driving is not all _that_ exhausting and won’t do him much damage at all! Cas in return just offers Sam a shrug, and then they take their usual seats, with Sam in the passenger seat and Cas in the back.

According to the person on the phone, Clair hadn’t been awake when they’d call. Surely, now that they’re a few hours further, she probably is, right? Halfway through the drive Sam takes over the wheel for the rest of the journey, and Dean does his best to relax the muscles of his shoulder. He probably has been holding the steering wheel too tightly, if this ache has anything to say for it. Sam only threw him another one of his bitch faces, but Dean just ignored it, instead settling on playing some games on his cellphone.

By the time they get there it’s barely in the afternoon. The parking is full and they have trouble finding a spot. Dean bitterly pays for the fee, but eventually they can start their way to the reception of the room.

“Novak, Claire, please,” Cas says when they get there. Of course, he didn’t walk to her voluntarily, instead only after Dean gave him a push. If he wants to continue living on Earth and acting human, he has to at least continue working on his communication skills.

“And you’re her…?” the receptionist asks, frowning when she sees the three strange people standing in front of her. Dean gives Cas a slight shove.

“I’m her uncle, this is my wife and her brother,” Cas quickly says, luckily still thinking about introducing Dean as his freaking _wife_. Horrible, but necessary.

“Right, she’s in room 497, unit 660 floor 4, just follow the blue arrows,” the woman instructs, pointing towards a hallway where arrows of multiple colors are put against the wall. The three men follow to where she indicates them, throwing her a quick thanks.

To say it’s annoying to have all the doctors and nurses throwing worried glances at him is only putting it lightly. Dean might have been willing to put on some extra layers to hide away his horrible form, but with the summer heat slowly getting back to the country it had been quite… unpleasant to be covered like that. This results in Dean only wearing a shirt and a jacket that end up looking too loose and baggy for him, despite, you know, the gigantic belly.

He manages to push himself through it; as long as he doesn’t express discomfort in his physical situations, doctors won’t rush after him.

Once they’re finally on the fourth floor, Cas seems to be at the verge of running away again. He always takes his conversations with Claire so personally, afraid that she might reject his help again. She’s done it more often than not, only showing helplessness when she’s at her most vulnerable.

In front of her door, the three of them wait for a moment. Of course, it’s Cas who has to go first, but Dean is the one hesitating this time. He knows how Claire feels about him; she doesn’t trust him, is even scared of him. Last time Dean saw her was around Christmas, and she mostly ignored him all that time.

“She’s not my biggest fan,” Dean says when he explains that he’s not sure if he should go in. “She might not take kindly to my presence.”

But Cas doesn’t answer, instead grabbing his hand in his own and squeezing his fingers.

“We’ll do this, together, then,” Cas says. Next to them, Sam scrapes his throat.

“You guys need a moment?” he offers jokingly, but the discomfort is clear on his face. Dean just shoves him in annoyance.

“You know, just for that I should make out with him right on the spot, just to annoy you,” Dean mutters while rolling his eyes. He knows his brother isn’t really one for public displays of affection, heck, neither are Dean and Cas. Whenever Sam says shit like this, it’s mostly joking.

“Please, don’t,” Sam counters while laughing. Cas just ignores both of them, releases Dean’s hand, and knocks on the door right before entering. Dean doesn’t follow right away, instead letting Sam get in first.

“What are you doing here?” he hears her say, and he stops in his steps. Is it really a good idea for him to get inside, as well? Surely, the two of them are enough, right? Cas stays close to the door, but Sam gets further in and puts his hands in the pockets of his jacket. After giving him a short look, Dean just groans in surrender and follows them in.

“And why the Hell did you bring _him_?” he hears the moment she sees him. His immediate reaction is to get the farthest away from her, instead leaning against the cabinet on the other side of the room with his arms crossed. When Cas throws him a look, all Dean does is shrug.

“Told ya,” Dean offers. He motions for Cas to just continue his thing, there’s not much use for him right here at the moment.

“The, um, police found my number in your emergency contact list,” Cas offers in hesitation. Claire turns her head away and crosses her arms as well. Her blonde hair falls in front of her face, but it’s clear that she’s not all that pleased. She looks to be thinking for a moment, mouth fallen open as she’s putting together a sentence in return.

“Yeah, well… that was a mistake. You can go now,” she answers dryly. Her blue eyes find Cas’ and her left hand starts fumbling with her identification bracelet. For a short moment she seems to be looking at Dean right before turning her head away again.

Dean can see how Cas seems to hit a wall inside his mind here. He’s obviously in over his head here, but there’s no point in giving up. So when Cas turns around as well in search for some assistance, all Dean does is nod towards the teenager in the room and gestures him to go on. If Cas is going to be angry at him for the lack of help, he’s going to handle it later. Dean just knows that meddling right now will lead to disasters, surely.

“Claire…” Cas starts, mouth open but no words following for a few seconds. Oh no, his mind isn’t blank, is it? Cas has never been nervous like this, Dean might actually start to get worried if it wasn’t so funny to see his husband trying to handle a teenage girl.  He’s adorable when he approaches the bed in hesitation. “Why were you at a bar?”

“I wasn’t,” Claire counters, rolling her eyes in that typical teenage way. Right then it seems like Sam takes pity on him and intervenes. He takes his hands out of his pocket and walks towards the bed as well.

“Claire, what were you doing in an alley outside of a bar?” he asks, clarifying Cas’ question.

“Wrong place, wrong time,” Claire answers without any thought, seeming sure of her answer. “Story of my life.” The way she says it makes it seem like the answer is the most obvious one. Like Sam’s question is a stupid one, and that he shouldn’t waste her time.

“Look, we’re not leaving until you tell us what the Hell really happened,” Sam warns her. Claire just shakes her head quickly, and keeps her gaze away from him. “So if you want us gone, talk.”

Dean doesn’t know why really he feels some warm when Claire turns back towards Cas with an expression that shows that she’s given up her bad-girl image. “I was looking for my mom,” she says, speaking to Cas despite Sam asking the question.

Then she makes herself smaller by wrapping her arms around herself and taking a deep breath.

“I wanna find my mom and tell her she ruined my life,” Claire clarifies.

Cas tilts his head to the side. Oh, he’s confused. “Your mom didn’t…” he starts, but he’s interrupted by the girl.

“She left me, and so did my dad,” she counters. Cas stays quiet. “But Jimmy’s gone, right? Has it easy up in Heaven. So… mom’s the only one left I can tell off.”

There’s another awkward silence right now. Her accusation towards Cas is clear, but it seems like he’s not the only one she’s angry at. Dean wonders if he should say anything, but on the other hand it might only make things worse. His hand passes over his face and he rubs underneath his nose while turning his face away.

“When’s the last anybody heard from your mom?” he hears Sam ask. Good, at least somebody seems to know what they’re supposed to do. Maybe Sam’s better fit for parenthood than Dean or Cas ever will be.

“Uh,” Claire starts, reaching for her bag on the nightstand and fishing out a little book from it. “When I was living with my grandmother, she used to send me postcards. This is the last one,” she says while opening the book and taking out a postcard right before handing it to Sam.

“I got it just before my grandma died, two years ago. Nobody’s heard from her, since,” she continues. She’s nervously toying with her book now. “That’s where I’ve been crashing. I was at Susie’s bar looking for a loser named Ronnie Cartwright. Mom’s diary said she was gonna meet him around the time she disappeared.”

Dean watches how she speaks. There’s a small glimpse of determination on her face, but he can also catch her uncertainty. She’s looking a bit desperate, which is probably why she decided to spill the beans after all.

“Before he knocked me down, he remembered her name.” Dean feels a strange urge to remove that scared look from her face, but he keeps himself in the back, far away from her. “He knows something.”

“Why was Amelia looking for him?” Cas asks, his low voice cutting the silence in the room. Claire puts away the book, setting it on top of her bag and her eyes never leaving Cas’.

“She went looking for miracles,” she says, as if it’s obvious. “She went looking for you.”

Dean knows that’s about all Cas can take, so he finally moves forward, takes a hold of the Angel’s arm, and pulls him away. He scrapes his throat, wondering if it’s a good idea to speak up but figuring he might as well try.

“Well, get dressed, princess. We’re getting out of here,” Dean says, guiding Cas out of there. The Angel looks horrified, his face pained and distressed. In silence, Sam follows them out, right back into the hallway. They close her door to give her some privacy, and then get away a bit further to stay out of the way of the nurses.

“This is all my fault,” Cas says, voice sad. Dean lets go of him and Cas turns his back to them. Dean looks back to check if nobody’s listening in.

“You know, Cas, say it is. What can you do about it?” Sam says. Wow, a bit blunt, right? Sure, it’s true, but Dean wonders when Sam’s ever been the one to just get to the point no matter what the other’s reaction might be.

“Find Amelia,” Cas offers as solution. Dean nods in agreement.

“She did disappear trying to hunt down an Angel, might be a case?” he says, shrugging.

“Yeah, but we don’t know that,” Sam returns. “We should be in the bunker, researching on how to _keep you alive_ , not helping some teenage girl who obviously _doesn’t want any help_.”

Cas and Dean both raise their eyebrows at Sam’s hard words. The younger hunter then seems to realize what he just said, and takes a deep breath.

“How about _we_ go back to the bar, see if we can track down this Ronnie guy. You can babysit the girl and get your shit together,” Dean says without taking his eyes off Sam, who passes a hand through his hair and takes a long deep breath. He licks his lips and then huffs.

“Right, okay.” Sam mutters, turning back to the room they just left, but once they’re there there’s nothing left of Claire other than her hospital gown. When the other two catch up to him, they see the empty room as well.

“Shit!” Dean curses out. He closes his eyes, wondering how they did not see this one coming.

“She probably went to go grab her stuff before taking off again,” Sam says, holding up the postcard. And with that, they agree to split up, Sam getting back to the motel and attempting to be there before she does. Dean and Cas go to the bar. There’s a chance of her trying to find Ronnie again, but if they find him first, they could get something out of him, right?

Before they can get into the bar, Cas holds Dean back by putting his hand on his shoulder and standing in front of the door. They’re both dressed in normal clothing, so it’s not really ‘official’ what they’re doing, but Dean can already guess what he’s going to say.

“The moment there’s danger you disappear, okay?” Cas urges on in worry. Dean just rolls his eyes, lifts up his hands in surrender and then nods.

“Okay, sure, danger and I’ll bolt. Understood,” Dean promises with a sigh. After that they get inside.

Their talk with Ronnie takes a little while, and it’s anything but pleasant. More often than not does Dean feel the urge to just kick the guy in the nuts with the constant promises of being innocent, but he barely manages to keep himself in check.

After a little while they get the information they need out of him. Of course, Dean hates the word faith-healer already, but right now he could just spit on it if it were corporeal. He’s not sure if the name they’ve gotten, Peter Holloway, is going to be something. Most probably it’s fake, but if it’s all they’ve got, it has to be enough.

They let Ronnie go with a warning, and after that they’re on their way back to the motel until Cas stops them when they pass a mall.

“It’s her birthday, I should be getting her a present,” Cas says as an answer, and Dean just agrees without saying too much. They get inside the building, walk around for a while, and when Cas chooses a plush version of Grumpy Cat, Dean decides not to say anything of it.

“I saw on the internet that teenagers love this cat lately,” Cas offers as explanation. Dean just holds up his hands and smiles brightly.

“Hey, I didn’t say anything,” Dean returns without removing his smile. Before they know it, they’re back in the car. Cas checks their phones to see where Sam texted them he’ll be waiting. When they open the door, it’s Claire standing there looking quite unimpressed.

“Are you alright?” he hears Cas ask before he even gets inside. Clair rolls her eyes and turns around again.

“Yeah, I will be when nobody ever asks me that again,” she mumbles out, walking away from them. Once Dean joins them inside, Claire is already sitting down on the bed, pretending they’re all just not there. Dean can handle that. He’s not here to make her like him, after all.

“You guys find Ronnie?” Sam asks. Dean nods and sits himself down on another chair at the table. Cas comes to stand behind him, holding his bag with Claire’s present in his hands.

“Yeah, he gave up a name… Peter Holloway,” Dean explains. “Said he was a faith healer.”

“So… what, you thinking Angel?” Sam asks with worry thick on his tone. His eye fly to Cas, still standing behind Dean.

“Maybe, but it sounded like he has healed some people, but he may have fed off others,” Dean brings up what the guy told them. It’s all still unclear, but at least it’s something to go on, right?

“Yeah, that’s weird. But if it _is_ a rogue Angel, you need to get out of dodge, Dean,” Sam warns him. “You know how they feel about Nephilim. Better not test this. He might escape and tell the guys upstairs.”

Dean just hums, finding himself a bit distracted. He turns around to look at Cas, and then nods his head towards Claire, who is completely failing at pretending not to pay attention. The Angel blinks a few times and then clears his throat.

“Claire, um,” he mutters out, walking back to the bed and holding out the gift bag with her present in it. “Happy birthday.”

Dean can’t help the smirk on his face upon seeing his stiff husband standing there awkwardly. It’s quite a sight, even stealing away Sam’s attention, who’s now looked up from the screen of his laptop.

Claire smiles only slightly, but it seems like quite an accomplishment already. She hums in confusion and takes the bag over, eyes wandering quickly towards its content. Her face is golden, though, when she fishes out the ridiculous cat.

“I got it at the Hot Topical,” Cas says proudly. Dean and Sam give each other a look, Sam raising his eyebrows, Dean countering it with a face that says ‘what can we do? He’s clueless that way’.

“I think you mean Hot Topic, babe,” Dean corrects him quickly before noticing the words ever escaped his mouth. Cas turns around for a moment, but then nods.

“Yes, sorry. Hot Topic,” Cas changes, quickly. Claire already puts the cat back inside, though, not seeming all that impressed about it.

“Um, thanks I guess,” Claire gets out quickly. She tosses the bag on the bed behind her and doesn’t give any attention to it anymore. Dean can see from Cas’ posture that the Angel is a bit disappointed. There’s an awkward moment between that Sam seems happy to break.

“Whoa, just got an alert from local P.D.,” Sam calls out with his eyebrows raised high. “Ronnie’s body was just found outside of Susie’s bar.”

“You were just supposed to talk to Ronnie! What did you do to him?” Claire calls out, and it takes a moment for Dean to realize she’s talking to him personally. Dean raises his hands in the air, knowing hs eyes have opened wide from the surprise of the sudden accusation.

“I didn’t lay a hand on him, ask Cas!” Dean counters, and the Angels agrees with him. Dean just shakes his head, wondering if there will ever be a day where Claire doesn’t see him as the villain of the story here. “Alright, I’m gonna get suited up and head back over there. You comin’, Cas?”

“Of course,” Cas answers, already reaching for their duffle bag and fishing out Dean’s old suit to put on. After that he throws Dean’s uniform, and the two of them quickly get changed in the bathroom. They work fast, not willing to lose too much time right there.

What he doesn’t expect is for Claire to practically jump them the moment they get out of the bathroom.

“I’m coming with you, too,” she says quickly. She’s already carrying her jacket in her hands, and there’s a determination on her that Dean knows all too well.

“You wanna get in on this?” Dean asks then in sarcasm. They’re practically taking a whole house along. Sam just huffs in a laugh and shakes his head.

“No, I’ll stay here and research this Holloway,” Sam returns. Dean nods, and then the three of them are off. Claire says nothing as they sit down in the car. Whenever Dean looks into the mirror, he catches her staring outside, hands nervously plucking her bracelet and sometimes even biting her lips. The one time their eyes meet, it’s only short as they both abruptly turn away again.

“What’s our plan here?” Cas asks while scrolling through the police reports Sam sent onto his cellphone. That’s the one true question now, though, right? When have they ever really known what the plan is when they get to a crime scene? It’s mostly improvisation on the spot if they don’t have a lot to go on with.

“Try to find some witnesses, check any wounds, maybe?” Dean suggests. Cas looks at him questioningly with an eyebrow raised. He doesn’t look all that convinced.

“And after that?” the Angel asks. He puts away the cellphone after locking it.

“After that you and Sam go check out the big bad wolf and I stay put at the motel,” Dean answers dryly, hating the words even though he knows they’re said with a reason. Cas seems pleased, though, so it’s not _all_ bad.

“Have you… you know, spoken to them again?” Cas asks then with a bit of hesitation. From the corner of his eyes Dean can see the Angel fidgeting in his seat, intently pointing his head towards the mirror as to avoid Dean’s gaze.

What can Dean say? He’s explained quite a lot already that it doesn’t really work that way. He can feel them, more often than not, but to actively talk to them would mean to let them take control again to have them answer him.

“No, but they’re happy, as always, when you’re around,” Dean says in a low voice. Having Cas nearby is always the one thing that can keep the two calm when they need to, and doesn’t that make Dean a bit bitter; knowing that he alone couldn’t manage the job. What kind of shitty parent does _that_ make him?

“You can talk to them?” suddenly comes from the backseat, and Dean is once again reminded that his husband’s kind-of-but-not-really-his daughter is also present.

“Yeah, no, kind of. It’s complicated,” Dean mutters out. There’s not really a point in trying to explain this again since nobody would understand it unless they lived it.

After a few more minutes, the three of them finally find themselves nearing the crime scene. There’s a female police officer standing there while the photographers are taking pictures of the body. The woman is busy taking notes on her little notepad, and only notices them approaching when Dean addresses her.

“Officer,” he says, already having his badge ready. Next to him, Cas does exactly the same, and when she’s completely facing them do they hold it up to show it to her. “Agents Clapton en Page.”

The woman doesn’t respond, but just inspects them deeply. She’s got a natural pretty look on her, and doesn’t seem like the bitter or angry type.

“And your little friend?” she then asks, nodding towards Claire, who is standing between Dean and Cas with her arms crossed, trying to appear bored despite her nervous twitching.

“Oh, uh, yeah, it’s ‘bring your daughter to work’ day at the bureau,” Dean lies, missing the roll of Claire’s eyes behind him but figuring she would be doing it anyway since he just kind of suggested to the woman that she’s his daughter. “Uh, vic was a person of interest in a missing person’s case, what do you got?”

Dean is a bit taken aback when he suddenly catches the woman’s warm and fond look. Her eyes passes over Dean, Cas and Claire in a quick motion, probably making up some conclusions. Of course she notices the enormous belly Dean can no longer hide. Fond and happy looks are often the things he gets whenever people pass him by. It’s what being a future-parent does to others around you.

“Stab wound, clean through,” the woman then says at last, nodding towards the body and moving them closer to Robbie’s dead form. “No sign of robbery; wallet and everything was still on his person.”

 

 

Dean takes a good look at the bloody wound in Robbie’s skin. It’s a strange, triangular hole that Dean can almost recognize as an Angel-blade’s would make. Yet, it’s not identical the same, either.

“What are the red marks there on the point of entry?” Dean asks, pointing towards the body. Next to him, Cas comes a bit closer to get a good look as well. The woman just lets them, but the photographer doesn’t seem keen on leaving his place next to the body as long as he’s not done taking pictures.

“Burn marks, maybe? Don’t know, really,” the Officer says. “We pulled his cell phone records. He made two calls to the same number prior to the attack. Tried the number, but the line’s dead now. Probably a burner.”

Then her cell phone goes off, and she quickly excuses herself. At the same time, the photographer finishes his work and makes his leave as well. The moment everybody’s gone, Cas comes closer.

“The wound looks like an Angel blade, but the point of entry is wider,” he starts explaining, only confirming what Dean thought. “Though I can’t explain those marks…”

Behind them another group of officers show up, holding up a blanket and putting it over Ronnie’s body, covering his form from everybody there. The three take a step back to get out of their way.

“Best birthday ever,” Claire says, not sounding sarcastic at all, which worries Dean a bit.

“Okay, all right, come here,” Dean says, pointing the other way and gesturing for them to get out of there. He notices Cas pulling her along with his hand on her shoulder, and to his surprise she doesn’t push his hand away, which is really something he’d never expect from her at all.

They pass the officer again, who is just finishing her phone call. She nods at them with a smile.

“How many children do you have?” the woman asks before Dean can get away. He stands still instantly, but Claire and Cas keep on walking back to the Impala.

“Ah, eh, you know,” Dean hesitates, wondering what he should say here. “Just the daughter and these two fella’s.”

It’s not exactly untrue, right? He _does_ have a daughter, back in Purgatory. He never said that Claire is _his_ ; she might as well have been Cas’ for all she knows.

“Congratulations, you and your husband been married for long?” Oh God when will she stop? He would never have guessed for her to be the sentimental kind of woman.

“Not even a year, actually, but we’ve been together a while.” Just not officially, since they never really managed to pull their heads out of their asses all the time before ever even speaking to Gail. How is that only two years ago in May? It feels like longer.

“Dean?” Cas calls out from behind him, and Dean couldn’t hope for a better rescue. He offers the woman a quick smile and then hurries off after them, shaking his head when Cas offers him a questioning look.

“Don’t ask,” he simply says. They make it back in the motel in speed record, and as Dean throws himself down on a couch and closes his eyes for a moment, Sam and Cas are discussing the case. Claire is awfully silent, but Dean saw her paying close attention to whatever they’re saying. She looks really interested in the way they do things, which is actually something he might need to worry about.

Dean jumps up in surprise when suddenly a plate is offered to him. He realizes quickly he must have dozed off. In front of him stands Cas, holding the plate with a burger on it, the bag with ‘Biggersons’ written on it makes it clear that he just went out to get one.

“You know that’s not on my diet?” Dean tries, cautiously taking it over and resting it on his swollen belly.

 

 

“Linda doesn’t need to know, and you deserve it,” Cas says gently. He kneels down then and passes his hand over Dean’s face in a gentle caress. “Sam and I are going to check the house Amelia has been observing. We’ll be back after that, okay?”

Dean just nods and smiles back at him, unable to stop himself from kissing the Angel firmly on the lips. He’s aware that Sam and Claire are still in the room, but for once he doesn’t really care. He’s extremely tired, feeling like crap, and he just wants to kiss his husband for crying out loud. So, he answers Sam’s awkward cough with his middle finger, and then finally lets go of Cas again.

“Keep an eye on Claire, okay?” Cas asks him. Dean notices the teenage girl standing there with her back leaning against the wall and her arms crossed, looking extremely angry for being benched and getting a babysitter assigned.

“Fine,” Dean says, a bit unsure if this is really the best thing right now. Claire still hates him, right? “But if anything happens, anything at all…?”

“We’ll call you,” Cas says before stealing another quick kiss. After that he stands up again and joins Sam at the door. “No fighting, okay?”

Dean just chuckles and Claire scoffs, marching back to her bed and pretending to read some sort of boring magazine. When Dean hears the door close, he takes the plate off his belly and puts it down on the table, not really looking forward to eating anything right now. With a loud sigh he rests the back of his hand against his forehead and tries to figure out if his body is up for more activity, today. Mostly because sitting here would mean he could actually fall asleep, which then in turn could mean that Claire might run away.

“Can I have a beer?” Claire asks uncertainly, eyeing the bottles Sam left on the table. Dean turns his head in that direction, and then lets out a laugh. “What? Like you never had a beer before you were 21.”

Dean sighs and rolls his eyes, forcing himself up from the couch and carefully getting back onto his feet. “Alright, you know what? If we stay cooped up in this motel room all night long, I’m gonna lose my mind.”

“Spoiler alert, you already have,” Claire says dryly. Dean stares her down and then lets out the most sarcastic laugh he’s ever created.

“That’s- come one, let’s go,” Dean mutters out. He grabs the keys, and marches up to the door. Quickly, Claire follows him out, looking a bit surprised but just as eager to get out of there.

Dean already knows where they’re going, having noticed the golfing-course from the motel when they got here earlier today. He hadn’t been planning on checking it out, but now he might as well do. Had Claire not been there, sure, he could have spent the whole night sleeping on the cough. Now, he can’t do that at all. He needs something to keep them busy.

Something that isn’t the two of them awkwardly trying to make conversation.

The first few holes are easy. Dean always goes first, and then does Claire, who’s also surprisingly good at this. Dean, of course, did some golfing back during his time with Lisa. He’s not an expert, but he’s not horrible, either. Yet, he can’t for the life of him figure out when Claire actually learned to do this.

After about half an hour of doing this, the course gets a bit tougher. Still, Dean strikes the flashy red ball after a long moment of concentration, ignoring the pain in his back. The ball rolls forward down the green, completely passing the hole, but then it bounces against the wall and gets in, at last!

“It’s in the hole! It’s in the hole!” Dean shouts, always doing this whenever he went doing this with Lisa. He twirls around happily and makes a wavy motion towards Claire, who isn’t looking all that impressed. “Bill Murray?”

Claire looks away.

“’Caddyshack?’”

She shakes her head.

“It’s a classic!” Dean shouts out in surprise.

“Never seen it, not a fan,” Claire says shortly. Dean feels his mouth fall open from the horrible thing she’s saying.

“How dare you?” he asks, feeling offended by this. Claire still looks unimpressed.

“You done?” she asks in return.

“Yeah, I’m done,” Dean mutters, walking to the side to give her space. “I’m done with your whole generation.”

Claire huffs, but otherwise ignores him as she manages to get the ball in the hole in an even better movement than Dean’s. The hunter quickly looks away in frustration; how did she outsmart him in freaking _golf_?

“Did you- did you see that? Did that go in the hole? I wasn’t watching.” she asks. “Did the ball go in the hole?”

Huh, so she _does_ know something.

“’Happy Gilmore’, well played,” Dean manages to mutter out. Claire takes a small bow and has some sort of satisfied grin on her face. Dean somehow finds himself feeling warm upon seeing her so enthusiastic.

“Thank you,” she says before turning around again to get to the next one.

It takes them another fifteen minutes for Claire to finally start a conversation with him. She’s taking another swing, and Dean observes her movement.

“This is what you guys do? Stay at cheap motels, steal credit cards… play mini-golf?” she asks in a way of casual conversation. Dean appreciates it either way.

“Actually, we haven’t played mini-golf in a while; Sam never really liked it. But… uh, yeah that about sums it up,” Dean says. Then he takes his turn and swings the ball away. “We help people; at least, we try to.”

They fish out the balls and walk towards the next hole then.

“Like, uh, Castiel helped my dad?” Claire asks, accusingly. Dean then sighs and shakes his head. He can’t exactly tell her off because she’s actually kind of telling what she _thinks_ is the truth, but it somehow still stings a bit.

“Claire, what happened to your dad… I’m sorry, okay? I really am,” Dean starts. He stops walking at last and turns towards her. “But there’s something you gotta know.”

Claire gives him a neutral look. It’s the most peaceful moment he’s ever had with her, and he doesn’t know if this is good or not.

“Your dad’s sacrifice was not meaningless,” he starts. “Yeah, he gave up his body, his… his vessel. And because he did that, Cas… Cas was able to save the world.”

Claire’s eyes look down in understanding. There’s no witty comeback, no snappy remark, just a hurt girl who is listening to the things her father did; his legacy he left behind for her.

“The world, Claire,” Dean repeats just to make sure she understands. “Your father’s a hero; he did not die in vain.”

Claire nods hesitantly, twitching on her feet and toying with the golf club nervously. Then she lets out a sigh and walks past him to get ready for the next hole. With a short swing the ball goes into the hole as well, and they hear a noise as the ball falls down.

“Last hole,” she then remarks, walking to where her ball disappeared to take a look.

“Already?” Dean asks, turning around to check the space. He thought it was bigger than this?

“Yeah, see? They take your ball on the last one,” she explains. “Drop it in the bottom like so.” And with that she turns her golf club upside down and lets it fall into the hole as well, only staying up because of the end getting stuck due to being too large.

Dean can’t help but finds himself staring at the club in the hole, his mind going places he can’t really explain for a moment. Slowly he makes his way to the hole, kneeling down gently and grabbing the end of the club.

“You okay? You’re not stroking out, are you?” Claire asks, sounding a bit worried but sarcastic at the same time. Dean ignores her for a moment and pulls the club back up after pushing it down for a few seconds. He finds the border of the hole pressed in as well, exactly where the ends of the club has been.

“The red marks,” Dean says while blinking.

“What red marks?” Claire asks in confusion, holding up her hands questioningly. Dean stands up and hands the club back to Claire.

“Claire, you’re a genius,” Dean tells her with a smile on his face. He gives her a little pat on her shoulder and then walks away. “Come on, let’s go.”

“What?” Claire gets out with a high pitched voice. “Wait, why am I a genius?”

As they bring the materials back to the lobby, Dean explains her his suspicions about the marks. Cas had said that the wound looked like it was made of an Angel blade, but it didn’t exactly add up. So when they’re finally with their books and Sam’s laptop, Dean finds himself and Claire researching various weapons of Angelic origin.

“If it was an Angel _sword_ that would explain the size of the wound and the red marks,” Dean says as they’re scouring through multiple articles about swords. Claire, in contrary, looks bored and frustrated after finding out the less-fun part about Hunting. The part nobody really ever thinks about when they sign up for the job.

“Why?” Claire asks.

“A sword would have a hilt on it, which could cause the… the marks,” Dean says, thinking back of the pushed-in border of the hole where the club had been pressed against. Of course, it makes completely sense, right?

“You got all that from a putter?” Claire asks, and Dean just grins proudly, a bit surprised at himself to be honest.

In the end, it’s Claire who finds out about the Angel Sword, which leads to them learning about the Grigori-Angels. It’s quite a lot to take in, and somehow he wishes Cas had at least once mentioned them, but from the way they’re described, it doesn’t seem like a lot of them are even left. They’re probably not really Heaven’s most proud creations.

Calling up Cas to give along the information is useless, and the same goes for Sam. What good is a cellphone if they’re not even going to answer the damn thing? Hopefully, the thing is just on silent. That scenario is infinitely better than the two of them lying dead somewhere in an abandoned little house.

“I don’t understand,” Claire says after reading up on the lore. “Grigori Angels went rogue? Started feeding on people? Why?”

Dean licks his lips as he checks his gun to see if there are still bullets, and then he puts it in his waistband. The twins are starting to get nervous as well, probably sensing Dean’s uneasiness about Sam and Cas being gone like this with no way for him to call them.

“Don’t know, don’t care,” Dean says, taking off his sweater when he’s starting to feel warm and instead opting to go for the light FBI-vest. “I’m heading over to Holloway’s to end that son of a bitch.”

“Yeah, let me guess, you want me to stay here?” Claire asks bitterly, leaning her head back on her hand in that typical teenage-way. Dean stops his movement, drops his duffle bag onto the bed, and then turns towards her while letting his mind think this through. It doesn’t take long, but then he reaches for another revolver from the bag, and quickly hands it to Claire after checking to see if there are still bullets in it.

“Happy birthday,” he tells her, noticing the smile on her face. “Don’t shoot me.”

And with that, he’s making his way out of the room and towards a random car on the lot. Of course, Sam and Cas went with the Impala, so Dean has to improvise a little bit, here. Unlocking it is easy work, and after dumping the bag into the trunk, he and Claire are on their way.

He probably breaks a few speed limits during the drive, but just knowing that Sam and Cas are there, unknowing of what they’re up against riles him up in ways that he rather not let escalate. If Claire is scared of his fast driving, she doesn’t say anything about it. She’s surprisingly calm, Dean figures, but he can’t complain here.

In just a few minutes do they make it to the house. They’re out of the car before any of them can speak, and they don’t say a word as they walk towards the house and the barn. They both have their guns drawn, ready to shoot should it be necessary.

“Alright, let’s stick together; first the barn, then the house,” Dean says, pointing towards the barn and the house respectively. Claire nods, swallowing nervously but otherwise not showing anything other than determination. “If you have to shoot, aim for the chest. It won’t drop an Angel, but it’ll slow him down, got it?”

Claire nods again. “Yeah,” she says. They get into the barn without making any noise, keeping their backs against a wall continuously just in case they need to hide. Dean’s not sure how long they can foor an Angel like that, but they can at least try.

When he suddenly hears footsteps, he readies his gun, gesturing for Claire to do the same. Silently he counts to three, raising his gun high and pointing it towards the source of the noise, which turns out to be Cas.

The Angel is holding up his hands in surrender, and he seems a bit surprised upon finding them there. Behind him is a room where Dean can see multiple beds, which is strange enough already.

“Dean,” Cas says as they both loosen their defensive state. Cas doesn’t bring up the fact that Dean isn’t supposed to _be_ here, instead just standing there and motioning for Claire to get inside. The girl hurries into the room, but Dean lingers outside for a few more moments, nearing Cas and trying to keep out of the way.

He can hear Claire talk to somebody, though. That must mean that Cas found Amelia, right? Cas isn’t saying anything, so Dean has to confirm his own thoughts by standing next to him, where he can finally see Claire hugging the skinny form of a woman that must be her mother.

Amelia Novak is crying, but Dean’s sure that Claire’s, too. Better to give them a moment.

“Let’s go find Sam,” Dean says, receiving a nod from Cas. Then he walks towards Claire and leans forward, his knees betraying him and now allowing him to kneel down. “Claire, hey.”

The girl is breathing through her tears, trying so hard to remain strong. Dean can’t help but admire her strength.

“Listen to me. Stay here, okay?” Dean asks her. “Do not move.”

Claire cries, grabbing his hand and suddenly offering him a hug as well.

“Okay, thank you. Thank you both!” she says. Then she pulls away and allows Dean to get out of the room. His heart warms up a bit at the idea that Claire actually _hugged_ him. Especially since she still hated him this morning. How much can exactly happen during a whole day? Before he leaves, though, he notices Amelia shivering on the spot. She must be freezing, Dean realizes, so he quickly takes off his jacket and offers it to her. She nods at him thankfully, and Dean nods back while trying to ignore the cool breeze passing over him.

They leave the barn without any more thought. They’re probably taking a big chance, leaving Claire and Amelia alone like that. They’re an easy prey with no possible way to defend themselves against an Angel. Maybe they should have given her one of their blades, but the idea of giving them one feels wrong at the same time. Dean just wishes she’ll never have to use one.

The house is dark, but the door is unlocked, which is concerning enough. Dean keeps his gun raised when he steps inside, but lowers it again when he sees there’s nobody in the room. He doesn’t say anything, but knows that Cas is following him inside, holding up his own gun in one hand and an Angel blade in the other.

 

 

He only stops in his steps when he notices an overturned chair on the floor of what must be a kitchen. Now, a normal chair wouldn’t be all that interesting right here, but it’s mostly the handcuffs that get Dean’s attention here.

“Cas,” Dean calls out softly. Before the Angel can respond, something creaks a bit further away, probably from another room. Dean’s heart beats a bit faster, but instinct kicks in of course and he’s on his way to find out the source of the noise. He hears extra steps behind him, so he knows Cas is following as well.

He’s given a fright when Sam jumps out of the corner with a baseball bat in his hand and on the verge of swinging. Immediately he takes a step back and holds up his hands, but then he realizes something.

His brother is holding a bat.

How did they even survive for this long?

“What the hell happened?” Dean asks, marching towards his brother to see if he’s alright.

“Listen, Holloway is a Grigori!” Sam says, but Dean says the word at the same time to make clear that he knows already, which earns him a confused frown from Sam, who tilts his head to the side much like Cas always does.

“Grigori?” Cas asks loudly. From the look on his face it’s clear that he knows of them.

“Yes,” Sam agrees, but Cas shakes his head and lowers his weapons at last.

“No, they were some of the first Angels on Earth,” Cas starts. “It was an elite until that went bad, but they’re extinct. They were destroyed.”

“Well, no, some survived,” Sam disagrees. “And they’ve been hunting humans, making them create Heavens in their minds and feeding off them.”

“Where is this abomination?” Cas asks bitterly. He’s clearly not happy about this, but Dean doesn’t have to be an Angel to agree with that sentiment. They’re in quite the crappy situation right now.

“I don’t know, I looked everywhere,” Sam says breathlessly while shaking his head. “he must’ve left.”

But Dean knows he didn’t, and only one look at Cas is enough to make him understand what he’s thinking. He runs out of the room without any explanation for Sam, getting out of the house and right back to the barn with a quick pace.

They get there right on time, though not on time enough. Amelia is already lying on the floor with a bleeding wound on her stomach. There’s blood dripping out of her mouth, and her eyes seem glassed over, as if they can’t focus on anything anymore.

Holloway is already raising his sword to strike another blow, and Dean can see Cas race him by with a loud shout coming out of his lungs. He slams his whole body on the other Angel, making them both fall on the ground. It’s not really a fair battle with Cas so weak; the Angel can’t even manage to prepare his blade before it’s knocked out of his hands. There’s a loud crack coming from his wrist that can’t mean anything good, and Cas cries out in pain.

Before Dean can do anything else, Sam is already grabbing the Grigori from behind when he’s trying to get up. The attempt to prevent him from hurting anybody else is noble to say the least, but it’s hopelessly optimistic and naïve. Still, it distracts Holloway for long enough for Dean to land some strong punches in the guy’s face. He knows it won’t hurt him, but maybe he can shake him up enough to disorient him.

He doesn’t expect the kick in the chest that throws him back onto the floor. With a loud groan, he lands onto the surface, his neck making a dangerous loud noise that ends up hurting more than he’d expected. There’s heat and anger pooling up from inside, and he’s not sure if he can control it this time. Especially when he sees Holloway struggle along with Sam before throwing him aside as well.

“How about this, they call _me_ the abomination, but here we are,” Holloway says while walking towards Dean, who lets out a painful groan. His body is disagreeing completely now, not allowing for him to move. If they make it out of here, he’s surely going to be stuck in bed for at least a week and half. “ _Nephilim_.”

He spits out the word as if it’s the most disgusting thing he’s ever spoken. He picks up Cas’ Angel blade, looks it over and snorts.

“This weapon is puny and weak, but at least strong enough to destroy the thing that puts such a dark spot upon the Angelic race.” His eyes land on Dean’s again, his smirk is almost scary. Sam is knocked unconscious further away, and Cas is still groaning in pain from his broken wrist. Dean’s completely alone here, and he’s not sure if he can mojo himself out of this situation. He can actually _feel_ the twins now in an emotion he’s never felt coming from them. Sure, they’ve been angry and happy, but never scared like this. It almost makes Dean want to puke on the spot, making him nauseous and dizzy instantly.

He can’t really see what’s happening next because his eyes are closed, but suddenly Holloway is shouting it out and then there’s somebody falling on the ground, quickly followed by the sound of what must be the sword dropping down as well. When he dares to open his eyes again, he sees Claire running back to her mother, crying it out and begging for her to stay.

Amelia doesn’t wake up, and she never will again.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_The next day_

It has been a sleepless night. While Sam stayed at the barn and helped Claire with her mother’s body, Dean hurried Cas into the hospital, though the both of them had been ready to get some medical attention. Dean’s head had been hurting during the whole ride, and after the doctor looked after Cas and gave him a cast for his wrist, he looked Dean over and stated that he’s gotten himself a concussion. After a quick look at the babies, they were able to confirm that they were both alright.

The doctor called it a miracle. Dean knows it’s just that impossible to kill Nephilim without sticking an Angel blade through them.

It’s the afternoon once Dean and Cas find themselves back at the motel, where they find Claire already packed up and ready to go. Where to, she doesn’t know. Next to her, Sam is also wrapping up all the research stuff and getting them back into the trunk of the Impala.

It doesn’t take long to explain what their diagnosis was, but right now Dean is ready to fall asleep on the spot, even if that means while standing up. His whole body feels like collapsing, and he promises himself to catch up on sleep during the ride. He’s probably going to take place in the backseat so he can use the space.

“Listen, Claire,” Sam suddenly says when he gets back inside. The girl in question looks up, but Cas and Dean pretend not to listen. “There’s this woman we know, Jody Mills. She might be willing to take you in for a while, until you get back on your feet? You might even get a chance at a college education.”

Claire lets out a long breath and nods slowly, but then she lets out a small laugh.

“So, what? Some sort of halfway house for wayward girls?” Claire asks as if the idea seems absurd. Dean can’t help but smile at her answer, realizing she’s a lot like him on that part.

“You deserve a chance to a normal life,” Sam tells her. Next to him, Cas looks like he’s at the verge of crying.

“You okay?” Dean asks him in a whisper, but Cas just shakes his head.

“I failed them,” Cas answers lowly. “I couldn’t protect Amelia, and now Claire’s all alone.”

Dean can’t find anything to answer, so instead he grabs the Angel’s hand and squeezes it once. It’s a simple way of comfort, but it earns him a short smile from his husband, which is enough for him, really.

Then Dean stands up, picking up a bag that he brought back from the hospital and handing it to Claire, who looks at him in confusion but then smiles upon receiving the gift.

“I felt bad about taking the gun back, so…” Dean says hesitantly. She’s quick in unwrapping the obnoxious paper away, and snorts when she sees the DVD now in her hands. Dean can’t help but chuckle, mostly managing to ignore the eyeroll of Claire. He remembers finding the DVD in the hospital gift shop on their way out, and he had bought it immediately, figuring that it couldn’t be a coincidence.

Under the DVD is a big book. She inspects it for a few seconds, but then hands it back to Dean.

“Thanks, but I don’t think I’m interested in any more homework,” she says jokingly. Dean lets out a breath but doesn’t lose his smile. He takes the book out of her hands and gives it a good look.

It’s a lore book on Angels. He got it all the way back when they met Cas for the first time, and by now he can almost say he’s memorized it. This book doesn’t have everything there’s ever been written on Angels, of course, but it has enough for Claire to know at least the basics.

So instead of taking it back, he kneels down and opens up Claire’s bag. He’s not at all surprised to find the Angel sword in there, along with Cas’ ugly cat-plushy.

“Do you honestly think I didn’t see you take this?” Dean says, but he’s not angry or anything. The guilty look on her face is enough to give him another smile. Without saying anything else about it, he puts it back in, instead grabbing the plush and raising an eyebrow. “Really?” he asks. Claire just shrugs and turns her head away. After putting it back in, Dean takes the book and adds it in the bag. After that, he closes it again and carefully stands up, noticing how Claire cautiously reaches out for him when he makes a painful sound.

“You know, Claire, you already got your revenge,” Dean starts once he’s up. Claire looks at him with her big blue eyes, reminding him of Cas so much that his heart makes a strange twitch. “You go down this path… our path… it’s not a long life.” With that, he nods towards Sam to indicate that he means being a hunter.

“I don’t know, you seem pretty old,” Claire jokes. Dean loses his smile instantly and throws her one of his own bitch-face that even Sam’s can’t measure up to.

“Thanks,” he mutters back. He receives a fond smile in return.

“Listen, what I did… setting you up,” Claire starts. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t…” she looks down as she’s struggling with her words. Dean then takes pity on her.

“Forget it,” he tells her. “It’s in the past.” Then they share a long look before she finally nods again. All he wants to do now is to wrap her back into his arms and offer her a long hug, but he knows it’s that new paternal instinct (or is it maternal now?) going through him. Those damn hormones turn him into something he never thought he would have become.

“Are you going to be okay?” Claire then asks. Dean raises his eyebrows, surprised at the question.

“Me?” he asks in return. “I don’t know. But I will keep fighting, keep swinging until I got nothing left,” he answers. Claire’s face falls a little bit as she seems to realize what Dean means. Of course, Dean doesn’t know what the future is going to hold for them. They haven’t gotten any closer on finding a way for him to live, and the clock is starting to tick now.

Before they can say anything else, Sam joins them again with his phone out.

“Claire, you want me to call up a cab to get you to Jody, or do you know somewhere else to go?” Sam asks, getting out the question that really matters here. The pensive look on Claire’s face is enough to make Dean understand she’s really thinking about this.

He doesn’t know what to make of it when she’s staring right at his swollen belly for a few long seconds. Somehow, whatever she’s seeing there seems to make her decision.

“If you’ll have me, I’d rather stay with you guys for now,” Claire suddenly says. “In one way or another, these two in there are my brothers, and they’re all the family I have left now.”

Dean’s heart breaks on the spot then, and he feels the tears coming up instantly. It warms him to know that she sees Alan and Jonah as family, because that way he knows they’ll have one more person that would be willing to take care of them when- no, if he doesn’t make it.

“Okay, that- that’s good,” Dean gets out with a small laugh while lowering his head. Claire throws him a smile in return and then walks towards Cas who is trying to make himself as small as possible. Before he can say anything else, Claire wraps him in a long hug that makes the Angel break out in tears on the spot.

Once they’re back in the bunker after a long drive where most of them caught back up to their sleep, Dean helps Claire to pick out her room, and assists her into making it more at home.

With that, their strange little family has grown with one more member, and though it’s a bit awkward at first, he finds that he wouldn’t change a thing whenever he sees Claire smile at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there are any remarks or if you loved it, feel free to leave a comment. Each comment helps me find my drive to write more :D  
> To those wondering what has happened to Sam and Rowena, that will be explained in the next chapter. This one has been written completely in Dean's point of view, so there's no clarification in what has happened.


	26. I need to scold your brother for keeping him dying from me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is making big decisions, and somebody returns to his life to help him out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short once again, but the story is reaching its end. I felt chills going through me upon writing this chapter, and the next ones will probably be just as exciting.

It would be foolish to say that things magically get better. It never does; they won’t automatically find some sort of ‘cure’ for Dean, Cas won’t just get his powers back, and Claire will always remain an orphan. For that to just change again would be a miracle, and those haven’t happened to them in a long time.

Claire fits in well enough. Sure, she’s grumpy and sarcastic, and she never really is where she’s supposed to be, but everybody can see that, despite her grief and hurt, she manages to find some sort of base at the headquarters. More often than not she’s exploring the whole building, and she’s never on time when it comes to dinner or breakfast.

Three days after arriving and picking out her room, she and Sam went to the mall, and he gave her completely free rein, letting her choose whatever she wants. They painted her walls blue and black the day after that, changed the lamps with those she chose, and hung her posters.

Linda’s the one who took her shopping for clothes, and once again she let herself go completely. They managed to return home with about five bags of clothes, and none of them really want to ask about how much they spend on it. It’s better not to know.

Cas is healing slowly, but still a bit faster than any other human being would. He’s in quite a lot of pain despite the pain killers, but he’s confident that the cast may come off at the end of next week. Dean’s not so sure about that, but who is he to question him? After all, he’s mostly bedridden in their darkened room due to his concussion, repeatedly woken up during the night to keep him from falling into some sort of coma or whatever. Dean never really learned the reason why, and frankly he doesn’t really care.

About a week after Claire moved in, Dean gets ‘permission’ to leave his room again and roam the building as he pleases. He spent most of the day talking on the phone with Lauren, so the change of scenery and people is actually a good thing for him.

They celebrate Sam’s birthday when May begins. Sam got phone calls the whole day, and in the afternoon they all went to the bowling alley where they all played a game – though Dean couldn’t pick up a ball anymore so he had to pass rather quickly. At the end of the day, they all enjoyed themselves enough to have big smiles on their faces, but Dean didn’t have to be a genius to know that something was bothering his brother, who kept on looking at his phone the entire time.

One day, Dean finds Sam in the recreation room, where his younger brother is sitting on the couch and sporting the biggest smile Dean’s ever seen on him. With a frown and a smirk, Dean sits himself down next to him and turns his face towards him.

“What are you so happy about?” Dean asks him curiously. Sam doesn’t look up but smiles even wider, eyes stuck in the book he’s busy reading.

“I was teaching Claire some more tricks on how to hack on the computer and she called me a, and I quote, ‘Cool Uncle’,” Sam says, finally letting his eyes find Dean’s, where the older hunter can see some sort of pride in there. Dean’s breath catches, and for a moment he doesn’t know what to say. Of course, he’s happy for Sam, but so far he hasn’t really seen her ever since they chose her room. He hasn’t even seen what’s become of it, only receiving reports from Cas whenever he came by.

“Oh, that’s great,” Dean says, managing a smile as well and finding that he means it. That’s good, because his fake smiles don’t really work on Sam anymore. The other hunter bites his lips and shakes his head before looking down again.

“She’s really smart, actually. Hopefully she can pick up school again after the summer, she might make it far,” Sam reveals. Dean isn’t all that surprised, having heard Cas speak of her grades back when she was a little girl. She maybe hadn’t been a straight-A kind of kid, but her points were always so good that her parents had offered her a present with every report she came home.

“Yeah, that would be great indeed,” Dean agrees. He picks up the remote and turns on the TV, zapping through the channels but never really finding whatever he’s looking for. He stops shortly at some sort of stupid cartoon, but when it turns out to be _really_ stupid, he continues to zap. Eventually he stops when he gets to one of the Spider-Man movies. He’s seen it a hundred times already, probably, but at least it doesn’t suck like everything else that is on does.

“Hey, I was talking with Kevin, you know,” Sam suddenly says, making Dean look up again. Sam is no longer reading his book, fingers resting on where he left off. “You know how we did Claire’s room, gave it a whole make-over and all?”

Dean snorts.

“Yeah, because I haven’t heard about anything else for the past week or so,” Dean answers dryly. Sam at least has the decency to look guilty at that, knowing that Dean had been bedridden for the whole damn time.

“Anyway, we thought we could maybe, I don’t know, make your room soundproof? To keep the noise in?”

With that, Dean picks up the pillow he’s resting against and slams it against his brother’s face, who deflects it with his arms and starts to laugh immediately. Dean knows his face is red, but it’s unclear whether it’s because of shame or because of anger.

“You’re such a bitch,” Dean mutters back. Sam only snorts in return.

“And you’re a loud jerk, especially in bed. And we’re tired of it,” Sam answers. Dean finally drops the pillow when he feels his arms getting tired, and with a loud and long breath he leans back against the chair and throws his head back with his eyes closed. “Dean, we know it’s normal that you and Cas… do _it_ , but after last time, you know… we just want to prevent anything like that happening again.”

“Hmmpf, you’re just jealous,” Dean counters, knowing that he’s acting childish here. But what can he do, really? The one time he and his brother had a _normal_ conversation about sex was a few months ago when they had gone to the park, and that had been the most awkward thing ever he’d discussed with him. Besides, they were loud that _one_ time, and they were under a spell because of Gabriel. In truth, they are probably the most quiet pair in the entire building. Really, Dean’s heard enough of Sam and Lauren back when they were together. The only time Cas and Dean are loud in their bedroom, they’re actually not even having sex at all.

Of course, Sam wouldn’t know that.

In the end, he does agree with his brother, and they start immediately with removing everything out of it. As they put everything into boxes, Dean comes across a few of the things he thought they’d lost after their honeymoon.

There are souvenirs from every place they visited; from shells from Australia for Linda, to a lore book from Africa for Kevin. They brought some stuff for everybody from Disneyland, too. There are photographs they didn’t know were even printed, but somehow both have a feeling that the Angels are involved with this. Dean comes close to thank them, even.

As he looks through the pictures, he shows a few of them to Cas with a smile.

“Look, Cas! A picture with Ramble,” Dean says, holding up a photograph of him in a see-though kayak holding a little octopus. That had been quite an experience, and the little beast had left him full of red little spots. The next picture is from them during their elephant ride, back in Africa. The picture had been taken by a friendly native who had been their guide during the day. The next is from when they helped building a school for the African kids. Dean can’t help but smile when he sees the little African kids hugging Cas tightly, remembering how his Angel had looks confused. How could he _not_ have taken a picture of it?

The next few pictures are from China, Egypt, Switzerland, France, Disneyland, Greece, London, and so forth. They’ve been so many places, and right now he’s happy that this stuff didn’t get lost when they left it back in the Maldives after Sam was attacked. Whoever brought it back with them, he’s grateful for it.

They spend about four whole days with their room. Kevin and Sam are doing most of the work, though Cas offers his assistance where he can. Linda is mostly just throwing around orders and making sure that everybody is getting enough rest. Claire, well, is still probably wandering around. Hopefully she doesn’t find their dungeon.

When they’re allowed to get back into the room – having been banished out of it for the past days and spending their nights in one of the guest rooms – they don’t only find the whole place completely refurbished, but there are also two large cribs not too far from their beds. On the cribs, the names ‘Alan’ and ‘Jonah’ are written in what must be the most beautiful handwriting he’s ever seen his brother have. It is safe to say that he had been crying afterwards, and it was easy to blame it on the hormones, though he knows it’s mostly just himself.

They’re still not getting anywhere with their research, but Dean never really thought they would have. They’ve been lucky quite a lot, but this time is not one of those times, so it seems. Claire jumps in and offers her help whenever she can, but other than that she’s doing who knows what in her bedroom or she’s out in the city with Linda.

One day she returns with her hair braided up again and a new piercing in her ear. Her skin looks awfully red and painful, but she kept on insisting that it isn’t hurting at all, and Dean isn’t willing to question her about it if she swears to it.

There’s one more visit at the doctor’s after reaching the mark of 28 weeks, but much like they suspected nothing’s really wrong with the boys and the doctor’s concerns are mostly directed to Dean himself, who keeps in insisting that he’s eating enough and that he’s only feeling tired. Still, the doc took an extra blood sample, and after that nothing more has been discussed.

All in all, things are going their peaceful way as much is possible.

Or are they?

 

* * *

 

 

_May 31 st  
Lebanon, Kansas_

Sam planned it perfectly; Their food supply conveniently ran out by the time that Linda was out of the bunker to visit some old friends, Kevin just received a new game for his Playstation and can’t be removed from it until it’s finished completely. Claire obviously isn’t all that interested in going shopping with a grown hunter she’s only just getting to know.

And for the matter of Dean and Cas? Well, they’re distracted enough as it is, not even having commented on Sam’s poor excuse of going to the store – which he’s of course going to do, but only after this business is finished.

Sam isn’t all that surprised that the address he’s stopped at is an abandoned building – probably an old company that went out of business years ago and has never been looked at again. He figures if the cold chills he’s feeling are actual warnings of a ghost, or if he’s just freaked out by this place. It’s probably the latter.

As he walks forward, the only thing he hears are his own footsteps and breathing. The stones under his feet scratch against the ground, suffering under his weight as he steps on them. Looking  around for a few long minutes, he comes to understand that there’s nobody here; he’s completely alone.

That bitch, she surely tricked him. He should have known, should never have trusted a witch. Cas was right, he should just have let her go. Sam is already turning around to get back to the car, but is suddenly stopped by a small redheaded figure standing in front of him, skin looking even paler in this sinister location.

“My, were you about to leave, darling?” Rowena asks with a wide grin, holding her hands up in that graceful way of her as if she’s about to go dancing.

“No,” Sam lies, looking her down with the most neutral expression he can manage. All he wants is to make clear that she can’t control him; he’s got the upper hand now, with the codex _and_ the Colt in his possession.

Of course, her leverage is bigger, since she’s the one who can actually _save_ Dean.

“So you have it?” she asks quickly. Her eyes search him hungrily, trying to figure out where he’s hiding the book. It’s not a long search, since it’s in the bag he’s holding in his hands. For the past month, this book has been his priority, searching through it to find if nothing bad in here can be used against them. Sadly, they’re written in a language that he himself can’t read, and to ask for Cas’ help would mean that the Angel would be made aware of his plans.

Sam reveals the book, dropping the bag on the ground while holding it out towards Rowena. When the witch reaches out for it, Sam quickly pulls back. The look Rowena throws him is a bitter one, but she doesn’t speak, instead just staring at him until he changes his mind again.

What does he has to lose, anyway?

The moment the book is out of his hands, Rowena is walking to a table and dropping it down on it, opening it and muttering as she reads through it. It’s as if Sam isn’t even there anymore.

 _What happens now?_ Sam wonders to himself, almost afraid that he’s just made the biggest mistake of his life. He shakes the feeling off, however. It’s too late anyway, and if the witch can help his brother, it’s better than nothing.

“And the Colt?” suddenly comes up from the charred desk, and Sam looks back up. Rowena, still bent forwards over the book, has her head turned towards Sam, hand holding her hair out of her face. The hunter scrapes his throat, thinking of the Colt safely in the bunker. For years he thought they lost the thing, but as it turns out Dean just threw it away in a corner after having shot its last bullet. It’s mostly useless now, anyway, and Sam’s sure she’s not planning on using it against them – a normal gun would have been enough for that, anyway.

“You get the Colt once Dean is safe,” Sam counters strictly. His hands are resting onto his hips, lips pulled into a thin line.

“That wasn’t part of the deal?” Rowena returns bitterly. Sam barely manages to keep his laugh in, but quickly shakes his head.

“You really think I’m giving away my only leverage? I gave you the codex – and by the way, getting the damn thing almost killed me, too – you rescue my brother and _then_ you get the Colt. We’re doing this in turns.”

Rowena’s expression is almost murderous, but there’s not much she seems to be able to do now, anyway. If she kills him now, there won’t be another way for her to get the Colt, since both Dean and Cas would rather die than work with her – which is actually really saying something about him now, isn’t it? Sam quickly shakes off that feeling of guilt, not really needing it right now.

“Fine, I’ll contact you when I’m done with translating the book,” Rowena then finally reveals, making her leave in big steps. It’s kind of anticlimactic, but that’s what happens when you spend most of your time with Angels and Demons who departure most of the time by just disappearing.

After counting to ten in his head, Sam, too, decides to leave this horrible building. He really should visit here with Cas to find if there’s any sort of haunting going on around here. Maybe he should do his research first, though. No use in alarming the Angel if there’s a chance nothing’s here, anyway.

As Sam is once again seated in the car, he figures it’s time to hit the store, at last. Quickly, he fishes out the shopping list Linda put together before leaving, and he drops it in the seat next to his right before driving out of the street.

Nothing happens in the store; he doesn’t run into anybody, he’s not getting any discount on any of the products and he doesn’t win the prize for being their thousandth customer. Mostly bored out of his mind – because he truly hates shopping alone – Sam walks through the alleys and takes out whatever he needs before dropping it in his chart. The checkout lane has a long waiting line, and the woman in front of him has her whole chart full – meaning that it’s probably going to take a while.

His attention is dropped onto the cellphone he’s holding. It’s something he does a lot lately whenever he has a moment to himself. It’s almost automatic that his fingers get him to his message inbox. Not a lot of texts have come through since after his birthday, but there’s one that he keeps on finding himself to. Technically, it’s still one from his birthday, but it had been sent about one minute before the day ended, so that should be why it stands out, right?

But Sam knows that he’s just telling himself that. The only reason why the message keeps on being opened and read through hundreds of times is just because it has the name ‘Lauren’ on top of it.

_Happy Birthday_

That’s all it says. There’s not an extra message added to it, no smiley face figures. Just those two words. But those two words had been enough for Sam to feel his heart break all over again, reminding him of the crap he pulled and only regretting it once more. But at the same time, it made him smile, because even if she’s pissed off like Hell, she still feels the need to send him a happy birthday.

“I’m pretty sure there’s no hidden message in that text, Winchester.”

That voice. Sam would recognize it anywhere. He doesn’t even need to look up to know that it comes from a woman with long black hair and beautiful mocha skin.

“Lauren?” he asks before looking at her, finding that the woman with the full chart in front of him is actually the one that has been on his mind the entire time. He hadn’t even bothered to look at her before, only checking the content of her chart and pulling out his phone. But it’s really her; she’s really standing there in front of him, waiting until it’s her turn at the line.

“How about that, seeing each other again in the same store we first met? Almost sounds like fate now, right?” she asks, trying to be light about it. The tone in her voice indicate that she’s not all too excited to see him here.

“Right,” Sam adds uselessly, unable to find more words to return to her. To be honest, there’s so much he wants to tell her; how sorry he is, how worried he is about his brother, the deal he’s making behind his back, that he loves her and misses her.

But it wouldn’t be right, especially the ‘loving’- part, since he never told her that when they were together in the first place. He hadn’t been ready for it, and only when he felt that he finally was, she was gone. She might take it as a sad attempt of him to win her back.

“So, how are things?” she asks, shuffling a bit towards the checkup-line and starting to drop her stuff onto the band. Her eyes never really leave his. Sam notices her bare neck; her hair is pulled up in a messy bun. There was a time where he had his lips against that soft skin there, kissing it freely.

“A bit messed up, but we’re pulling through,” Sam says, wondering how much up to date she is about it all. “Still finding a way to get Dean’s ass out of trouble, but now Claire’s moved in as well so the bunker’s getting a bit more crowded again.”

“Dean’s in trouble? Hold up, clarify that?” Lauren asks as she puts a few more products on the band and then offers her card to be scanned. She pushes her chart forwards and gives the cashier a big smile.

“Of course he didn’t tell you,” Sam mutters, shaking his head and letting out a long sigh. “To keep it short, the twins are killing him, he’s known it from the beginning, but we only figured it out a few weeks after you left.”

And that hurt to say, but Sam’s not exactly sure how far along Dean had been when they found out, but it must have been about ten weeks or so? Come to think of it, that’s quite a while ago, especially now that Dean’s reaching his 29th week and has started counting the kicks in a day – as the doctor told him to do.

“Woa, he’s _dying_? I noticed he had gotten skinnier last time when I went with him to the doctor’s, but I didn’t realize it was _that_ bad?” Lauren says, obviously distressed about it. She starts putting everything back into her chart after it’s scanned, and then pulls out her card to pay.

“He probably didn’t want to worry you, which is just typically him-“

“Must be a family thing, then,” Lauren interrupts dryly. Sam shoots her an unimpressed look, but then just continues as if she didn’t stop him.

“But we’re looking into this, and I think I might have a shot at saving him,” Sam finishes. It’s now his turn to drop things on the band, and as Lauren finishes putting all her stuff back, she takes a step back to get out of his way.

“What is it? If I can help in any way…?” Lauren suggests. Sam casts her another long look, remembering once again why he had fallen for her. She’s always so determined to help out wherever she can. She doesn’t like being useless, and gets herself in danger most of the time because of it. At least, now that she’s back to being a lawyer – according to Dean, of course – Sam’s sure that she’s safe, even though it’s away from him.

“Well, Dean won’t really like my plan since it involves witches,” Sam suggests. The unimpressed look he gets from Lauren makes clear that she, too, doesn’t seem all too excited about that. The cashier either isn’t listening or is just ignoring them, which is what Sam would do, too.

But when Lauren’s cellphone starts ringing, she looks down in surprise. Her mouth falls open, and her finger goes up to make him wait. Sam just nods, offering the cashier the cash he owes and puts everything back in the chart. After he gets his change, he walks towards Lauren, who notices him approaching.

“Hold up,” she says to the person on the line, and then she puts her hand on the microphone. “I have to go, it’s a client. Just text me the plan and I’m in.”

Sam just nods, but he doesn’t walk away just yet. He keeps on opening his mouth to tell her something, but the words don’t come out. It must have been clear on his face, because after Lauren hangs up her phone, she lets out a long sigh.

“Just say it,” she tells him shortly.

“Listen Lau, I’m so sorry about everything. You’re right, I should have told you right away, and what I did was selfish, and if I could go back now I would change everything. I just, I miss you so much.”

It all comes out in one take of breath, and Sam finds himself gasping for air at the end. Lauren doesn’t answer, but just keeps on staring at him. Her mouth is put into a thin line, and her breathing is a bit louder than normal.

“Lau, I lov-“

And then her finger is pressed against his lips, and he’s forced to stop talking. She doesn’t look angry, per se, but she doesn’t seem pleased, either. Sam then realizes what he was about to say, and he’s glad she made him stop. It would have been the wrong thing to say, especially right now.

“I’m leaving now, have to get to my client. You just text me your plan and I’ll help you save your brother. Whatever we two had together, it’s over for now, okay? You lied me, and I need time to get over that before I’ll allow you to say those three words.”

After that, she removes her finger from his lips and walks passed him as she gets out of the store. Sam watches her go, and finds that tugging feeling back in his chest as he sees her retreating back.

 

* * *

 

 

The following weeks are quite the shitstorm.

Upon reaching thirty weeks, Dean ends up having the worst mood swings ever. He can wake up completely happy and annoyingly optimistic about everything, but then somebody has to say _one_ thing wrong and he might end up shouting and throwing things – mostly books, since they’ve learned to keep the glass away after the second time. It doesn’t help that he’s being clumsier than ever where-ever he goes. He kicks things over when he passes them, accidentally breaks a few eggs when he wants to bring them over to Linda, and even spilled a whole glass of milk on Cas during breakfast.

So, during that whole week, most of his days are ending with him lying in bed with tears that he can’t control, body so extremely tired that he can’t even get up after lying down again. He calms down whenever Cas holds him, though, and that helps both of them get through the night.

When the 31st week arrives, the mood swings haven’t gone better, but on top of that the boys seem to have started this competition on who is the better kicker. Dean’s input in the research isn’t much anymore, and more often than not he’s sent back to bed or to the couch to rest up.

He does panic when the random contractions start. He almost shouts the whole bunker together, calling out that the boys are coming and only calming down when Linda explains to him that it’s normal and that he should stop panicking.

On the 32nd week, the mood swings have lessened, but in turn he gets these burning sensations in his chest and he ends up out of breath from even walking from the kitchen to his bedroom. Most of the time is spend on the couch or in bed as the pains in his lower back have also started. After a visit from the doctor, he’s explained that that pain comes from his growing uterus and the hormonal changes.

The research doesn’t go any better, either. Dean’s body might be starting to fail on him, but Cas doesn’t seem to fare any better, either. His nights are short just like Dean’s, and he’s tired all of the time. Dean knows that he worries; everybody knows it. But the closer the ending is nearing, the more Dean starts to understand that there’s just nothing more they can do.

As if the nights hadn’t been unnerving enough when the kicking started, upon his 33rd week Dean finds himself having trouble falling asleep again, but now mostly because he can’t seem to get comfortable. However he’s lying, his belly is getting in the way.

They try having sex again, but they’ve gotten back to the point where it’s just unsatisfying – this time for the both of them – and instead they just hold each other close and try to fall asleep like that. They haven’t tried again after that time, especially with Dean feeling as if his heart is going to rip from the straining he’s putting on it. He can almost hear Sam’s voice in his head telling him that he shouldn’t have eaten all those burgers.

Week 34 begins with more fatigue. Dean has all but given up now on finding a solution, and instead spends most of his time with the people he’s started to call his family. It’s a Sunday, and summer’s full in swing. Normally they would have gotten out to get some air, but Dean’s body is now so weak that he can’t walk large distances for too long.

He knows the end is near now; it’s the third of July. According to the Prophecy that is still so clearly etched inside his mind he has three more days. He’s not even sure if Sam and Cas know that it’s so close now. They might have forgotten about the exact date, right? They’re probably just assuming that he would go for the complete forty weeks like any regular pregnancy.

He’s sure, though, that the others remember. How can they not? They’ve analyzed the Prophecy during their research. They know as well as he does that the sixth of July is _the_ day, and seeing as it is the third…

Dean just finds himself sighing that night in bed. Cas has his face pressed against his side, seemingly asleep, but Dean catches the tears in his eyes. He thinks about rubbing them away and comforting his husband, but the only reason why Cas is showing his ‘weakness’ right now is because he thinks Dean is asleep. Besides, what could Dean say that would comfort him? They’ve run out of things like that to say.

Three more days, Dean thinks, letting out a long breath. After that, I can watch over them from upstairs, instead. And man, does he hope that what he’ll see the following years won’t be too heartbreaking.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_July 4 th, in an abandoned warehouse  
Lebanon, Kansas_

Okay, so it’s not Sam’s proudest moment, but to be really honest here, he doesn’t see what other options he has. He sent Rowena the message that he would like to meet up with her again, this time with Lauren joining him since she’s now, too, up to date with his teamwork with the Witch.

He’s given Rowena weeks to decipher the codex, but enough is enough. They only have two more days until it’s too late, and the witch doesn’t seem to be in any hurry at all. She’s vague on the updates, doesn’t give him any ingredient that he has to look for, and seems reluctant to meet up in the first place. The fact that he managed to organize this meeting is a miracle on its own.

When she arrives, it’s not without her typical flair. She’s holding the Codex against her chest and rests a hand on her hip as she stares Sam down.

“Really, Sam? I’m surprised you don’t realize that I’m busy?” Rowena asks with a snap. Sam throws her a glare. Lauren just looks uncomfortable being in the same room as her.

“Have you translated the codex?” the hunter asks. He keeps his hands in his pockets and leans against the wall. Rowena makes an annoyed noise and starts walking towards the table she had been reading the book on the last time.

“I’m getting there. It would go a lot faster if you would stop interrupting me every three minutes or so,” the witch counters.

“Well, what do you know so far? What can you already tell me that you need?” Sam urges on. Rowena’s eyes go up to him and give him a long look before she finally opens her mouth.

“I might need a bone of a child of Heaven,” she starts. “Feather of an Archangel, something that belongs to Dean. That’s all I managed to translate for now. It took me a while to find the right spell, you know.”

“What is the spell?” Lauren asks all of the sudden. Sam startles upon hearing how low her voice is. The woman isn’t pleased, obviously. She seems ready to kick some ass, and Sam knows that he shouldn’t upset her at this moment.

“Pardon?” Rowena asks, as if only noticing her right now.

“The spell, what’s it going to do?” Lauren clarifies her question. She walks slowly towards Rowena at the table, leaning against it once she reaches it. Her arms are crossed against her chest and her lips are once again drawn into a thin line.

“Oh, eh,” Rowena starts, looking back into the book and pointing her finger at the page as she reads again. “This spell will put a mark on Dean that will heal his body back to its most healthy after dying. I know that it works, I’ve seen it in action before. Only never knew the incantation to it.”

“So Dean will be dead, and then come back?” Lauren asks with an eyebrow raised. She throws Sam a short look, and the hunter nods, walking closer as well.

“Yes, of course it will freak the doctors out, but who doesn’t believe in a miracle once in a while?” she’s smiling as she speaks, but neither Sam nor Lauren feel like they can do that as well. Rowena doesn’t notice Sam walking up behind her, so when he finds a good moment where her hand is easy to reach, he jumps into action.

He fishes out the cuffs that had been lying underneath the table, and wraps them around her wrist. The shout of surprise coming from Rowena makes Lauren jump up from her place on the desk, but after seeing what Sam did, she starts laughing instead.

“Come on, Sam, you really think this can hold me?” she asks, but as she takes a closer look, her smile fades away again.

“Recognize it?” Sam asks. Of course she does; it’s what they used to lock her up in the bunker so many months ago. It held her in place up until Crowley freed her. She should know more than the others how the thing strips her of her powers.

“What’s the meaning of this?” she asks angrily. She starts swinging with her arm, trying to get it loose, but Sam made sure that won’t happen. She can’t break it from the ground, it’s just too strong.

“You’ve been lingering for long enough now,” Sam tells her. “The deal was you rescue Dean, and you’re going to do that, first.”

The glare he receives is huge. Her eyes look close to spitting fire. For a tiny woman, she can make quite a scare figure of herself. Luckily, she’s locked up, and he isn’t. He knows he should be worried about what will happen afterwards, when he frees her, but that’s something for later. Right now, Dean has all the priority.

“And what do you think I’ve been doing?” Rowena mutters. This time, it’s Lauren that answers.

“Listen, lady, all I care for right now is that Dean gets better. This is the only way to ensure that you do your job. If you do what we ask, we let you go, how’s that sound?” she asks. Rowena looks at her for a long while, and suddenly all the fight seems to leave her body. Sam can’t believe she would be convinced so quickly?

“Fine,” she bites, much to Sam’s surprise. She sits down at her chair without much more fussing. With an admiring look, Sam realizes that she’s done it again. Lauren has this weird gift that can make people listen to her. She calls it her power of persuasion. Sam can’t really disagree on that, since he’s been a ‘victim’ of it, too.

You stay with her for now, I’ll take over in a few hours, okay?” Sam asks, just confirming what they’d already agreed on. Lauren nods as she leans against the wall and starts messing with her cellphone. The way she tarts typing furiously could only mean that she’s working. That, or she’s sending an angry text to somebody.

He feels a bit guilty dragging Lauren into this again. The woman told him months ago that she would get out of this world as soon as those vampires were gone. Even though she’s good at it, hunting isn’t what she wants in life. Sam should be the first person to understand that, and the fact that he keeps on pulling her back in whenever they agree that last time had been the last time should probably be indication enough that he’s only bad news to her.

She doesn’t give him any attention anymore, which is Sam’s cue to leave. He throws Rowena one last look, finding her actually writing down stuff as she traces her finger over the pages of the book. Sam wonders how she can actually understand any of this.

He can’t tell whether he’s feeling guilty or just sick when he’s driving back to the bunker. He’s got no real excuse made up as to why he got outside in the first place, but he figures that it shouldn’t matter all that much anymore. They’ve got less than two days left, and they’ve both given up. Sam doesn’t need to ask them to know; it’s in the way they behave lately, as if every moment together might be their last.

Oh, how it breaks his heart to see his brother like this.

He parks his car in the garage and sees that all the cars are still inside, which means that they’re all at home. Sam wonders if he should sneak back in his room and pretend he’d been there all along, but he knows he can’t lie about something stupid like that.

So he just gets in, greets Claire and Kevin when they pass him by, and gets to the common room where Dean is lying on the couch again. He seems to be asleep, as far as Sam can tell. His eyes are closed, his face his calm in a way that Sam hasn’t seen before.

It hurts each time again to see the sharp cheekbones on his face. His skin is pale and hollowed out, making dark shadows in his cheeks. Under his eyes are dark circles that indicate great lack of sleep. There are lines on his face that he’s never seen before, as if he’s aged a few year in this past year. His hair is longer than Dean’s ever had it before, but it looks lifeless, faint. It doesn’t have any volume anymore.

His breathing is hard but uneven. Sam can hear a wheezing sound coming from his chest, as if breathing is the thing that makes him out of breath. It probably correlates with the heart problems he’s got now, as well. With such a weakened heart-muscle, it’s only a miracle – according to the doctors – that he’s still moving around as much as he is. Of course, they don’t know that the Grace of the twins are healing him just enough to survive. Much like a parasite, and now Sam can’t believe that he just called his two nephews that.

“It’s distressing, isn’t it?” comes up from behind him, and Sam turns around to find Cas standing there, holding a cup of coffee in his hands and leaning against the doorframe. Though he looks healthies than Dean, it’s still clear that the guy is feeling like crap. The dark shades under his eyes are almost scary. His shoulders are slumped, and he’s yawning more often than not.

“Found nothing?” Sam asks, but already knowing the answer before Cas can shake his head. Of course, Sam knows that the two have stopped their research. Nothing that they found didn’t include sacrificing another human being or removing the twins – which would need Cas’ Grace in the first place. Just to keep it short, there’s nothing they could come up with that wouldn’t make despicable human beings of them.

“We haven’t looked, today,” Cas says after his yawn. The message is clear, though, and Sam turns his head back towards his sleeping brother, who is lying on the couch with a skinny hand resting on his stomach. It hurts Sam a great deal, to see his brother like this, but he can’t imagine how it feels for Cas.

Only a few months ago, Cas had been able to cure almost anything with just a touch of his fingers. Now he can barely cure a cut, and he ends up knocked out by even trying that. It must be horrible not to be able to do anything that can help, anymore.

“I’m going to fix this,” Sam mutters out in a quiet promise for his brother. Cas, who is now standing next to him, raises an eyebrow in confusion, looking at his brother-in-law in a questioning glance.

“How, Sam? We tried everything,” Cas tells him as a reminder. His coffee goes back up to his lips, and he takes a quiet sip.

“I’ve got something, but I still need to work on it,” Sam returns. As long as Dean is asleep he won’t get in trouble. Cas would understand; there’s much he wouldn’t do to rescue Dean, even if it means having to make a deal with a witch. Sam’s hands come to rest in the front pockets of his pants. He puts his lips together as he thinks of his next words. How much can he tell Cas? Is he sure the Angel isn’t going to flip?

“You have to tell me!” Cas begs of him, almost grabbing him by the shirt and hanging on to him with his eyes wide. This image right here is that of a desperate man who is about to lose the thing he cares about the most and would do anything to save him. Right here is the crossroad; will he forgo Dean’s opinions on witches and join Sam in his solution, or is he going to respect Dean’s wishes and keep all kinds of witchy-stuff out of this?

Really, the answer is already there, and he can pretend that he’s hesitating about it all he wants, but there’s nothing here that’s going to convince him not to do it. Especially not with the Angel looking at him like he’s about to break apart on the spot if he hears one more bad news.

And so he tells him everything on the spot; Dean’s sleeping anyway, not even close to waking up. He tells him about how he reached out for Rowena after they came back from the psychic who helped them talk to Bobby. How he made a deal with her; the colt and the codex in return for assurance that Dean would live.

He talks about how Rowena had been stalling with the translation of the books, but is now finally making good work on it. He explains that Lauren is in on it as well, making sure that the witch is doing her job.

When he’s finished talking, Cas is looking at him with a surprised and horrified look, as if he can’t believe everything he’s just heard. Instantly, Sam recognizes that telling Cas might have been the biggest mistake he could have made.

“Sam, you can’t go through with it, this isn’t what Dean would have wanted,” Cas immediately starts. Sam shakes his head and turns around. He can’t be here right now; he doesn’t need this negativity. Before he can get out of the room, though, Cas pulls him back by the arm. His hand on his skin feels cold despite the warmth going around in the room. Sam’s eyes drop down on where they touch, and wonders if Cas would take it as a great insult if he would pull away his arm.

“There’s nothing else we can do, Cas,” Sam then counters bitterly. On the couch, Dean stirs a bit, probably because of Sam raising his voice. Dean’s always been a light sleeper. “In two days, Dean will be dead. We’ve searched everywhere, asked everybody we know. If Rowena says she has a spell that can make Dean return to his body after he dies and cure it to its healthiest? Hey, I’m game.”

“She’s playing you, Sam,” comes in return. “She’s taking something you care about and tries to get whatever she wants out of it. Even you must know that, whatever she wants the Colt for can’t be good.”

Sam doesn’t want to stay here and hear more of this. It’s clear that he won’t be able to reason with the Angel, and he really should get out of here before Dean wakes up and joins in on it.

“Listen, Cas, I know that Rowena’s intentions with the Colt might have consequences, but I rather have Dean living before having to worry about that. If she says that she can make sure he lives, I’m going to take her word on it. She wants the Colt _too_ much to lie about this.”

Cas shakes his head again. Meanwhile, Dean seems to have finally awakened, which means that Sam has to get out of here. Never mind his shifts with Lauren. He has to stay away from here, make sure that things will continue to go according to plan.

“What’s going on?” Dean asks sleepily. When he tries to get out of the couch, Cas runs to his aid, taking him by the elbows and helping him up. Dean is shaking, holding on tight to the hands on him. Sam notices him leaning against the Angel as he lets out a yawn. This person in front of him isn’t the way he wants to remember his brother at all; sick and hollowed out, looking as if he might break from just bumping his arm against the wall. His belly is enormous, in high contrast against his boney limbs. Underneath the sweats Sam knows Dean’s legs are almost sticks, just like his arms are. His wrists look so fragile, his fingers so weak.

“I can’t let you die,” Sam says to his brother in his defense, even though Dean doesn’t know what’s going on. Then he turns around, making his leave again. He shouldn’t even have come here. Should never have opened his mouth at all.

“You- what? What’s going on?” Dean’s wrong voice asks from behind him, and even that sounds weak. “Sammy!”

Sam ignores him. At least he never told Cas where he’s holding Rowena, so the Angel can’t try and stop them.

“Sam, if Rowena’s spell works, the Dean that might come back probably won’t be the Dean we know,” Cas shouts after him, and that makes Sam stop. He turns his head a bit to the side to show that Cas has his attention, even though everything inside of him tells him to get out of here as quickly as he can.

“Rowena? What are you guys talking about?” Dean asks. Their voices are nearing, getting closer to where Sam is standing. “Sam?”

And then Sam turns around with his head raised up. It’s an indication that he’s still not agreeing with it, but he’s ready to listen to him.

“Sam, if Dean goes with the reapers, his soul won’t be on Earth anymore. If his body would then forcibly be woken up, we would end up- well, you of all people would know.”

“What? I don’t want to be soulless. If Sam was a jerk, imagine what kind of asshole I would be?” Dean mutters out. Sam’s eyes travel towards his brother for a short moment, thinking back of the way he used to be; strong, tall, healthy… Whenever he walked inside a room all the girls would look up. Women would get flustered whenever Dean would start talking to them. He just had that effect on them.

And now… not much seems to be left of his brother but a hollowed out shell.

“Then Dean shouldn’t follow his reaper,” Sam mutters out shortly.

“And if it fails? Then he would be stuck as a ghost? He will be the very thing we hunt.”

“Guys! I’m right here! Stop talking as if I weren’t!”

And then a long silence passes over them. Sam glares at Cas, and the Angel does as well in return. Dean, who is still leaning against his husband is trying to regain his breath, a hand pressed against his chest because of the effort it took him to shout it out.

“I can’t believe you won’t agree with this, Cas. I thought you loved Dean more than this.”

It’s a low blow and he knows it only too late. The way Cas’ eyes widen in shock and his mouth falls open, Sam knows that he’s overdone it. Who is he to question the Angel’s love of his brother? After all the thing Cas has done for them, after the way he has been when Dean had disappeared, or when he found out about the women during his disappearance. Sam shouldn’t even come close to question his feelings for Dean.

“How dare you?” Much to his surprise, it’s not Cas but Dean who’s speaking now. “How dare you even _question_ the way my own _husband_ feels about me.”

Dean is shaking himself out of Cas’ arms, slowly approaching Sam with a dark look on his face. Sam feels his heart skip a beat when his brother’s finger pokes against his chest. Sam takes a short step back, but it’s too late anyway.

“If you’d had spent even just a _few_ minutes with us, you would have known that Cas only disagrees with you because he promised me he wouldn’t go after Rowena. Unlike you, _he_ told me everything about your confrontation back then.”

“I can’t let you die, Dean. I don’t care if you’ll hate me afterwards, but it’s too soon for you to go.” Sam notices how his voice is cracking. His eyes are stinging. If only Dean would understand why he’s doing what he’s doing. They’ve done this dance before, haven’t they? Trading their souls, making deals with Demons and witches. It’s what they _do_.

“I don’t want to live if me living means something bad is going to happen in return. I want my boys to live in a safe world, Sam. And Gabriel warned me that you would head down a dangerous path, and I’m pretty sure she told you as well.”

Sam remembers indeed.

‘ _Sam, once you know all about the Prophecy, you’re going to try everything to stop it from happening. I have to warn you that by doing that, you’ll be heading down a dangerous path. More specifically, Hell.’_

Sam lets out a long breath and closes his eyes while he tries to clear his head. He had completely forgotten about the warning, but now that he knows about it, isn’t it obvious that he can do everything he can not to make that happen? He’s done too much to close the gates of Hell. He won’t let his own stupidity reopen it.

“If you guys actually _think_ I’m going to give Rowena the Colt, you must think me an idiot,” Sam bites lowly. Once again he turns around, unable to stay here. It has never been his plan to just give Rowena the gun. They’ve double-crossed people before. He worked it all out with Lauren beforehand; after the spell succeeds, the witch would have an Angel blade stuck inside her chest, no matter how Crowley might feel about that.

“I think she won’t give you a choice,” is the last thing he hears Dean say before he’s out of the hallway and back to the garage. He has to get out of there, figure out how he’s going to find a feather of an Archangel. The bone of an Angel is easy enough; he remembers where they’ve buried a few of them a few years back. Just need to dig it back out.

It takes the whole remaining day for him to get to the burial site and back, but at least it’s not without result. When he arrives to the warehouse, he presents the bone to Rowena, wisely keeping quiet what had happened back at the bunker. Lauren greets him with a short nod and pushes herself off the desk she had been sitting on. Rowena is still furiously writing stuff down on a piece of paper.

“She already has a list, she’s just doing the finishing touch and then it’s all done,” Lauren says, offering Sam a piece of paper full of ingredients they’ll need. Sam puts down the bone on the table, startling Rowena for a moment before the witch ignores him further, and he takes a look at the list.

Most of it contains herbs and plants that are easily found. It would take half a day for him to collect it all and be back here, but it’s manageable. The only problem he’s encountering is the feather of an Archangel. He has no idea how he can trick Gabriel in coming back and get a feather out of it. Gabriel has been the one to warn him away from this path, he’s sure that she isn’t going to help him out here out of the goodness of her heart.

“Cas and Dean aren’t behind us,” Sam tells her, even though that might be a bad idea. Lauren doesn’t seem surprised, though. She crosses her arms together and leans against the wall, letting out a long breath.

“I wouldn’t have expected them to agree with this,” Lauren shrugs. “As long as Dean lives, I don’t care about the consequences.”

Sam manages a light smile to the woman in front of him, and once again he’s reminded of how much he admires her, loves her. It takes all he has not to reach out his hand and put it on her cheek, but he knows she wouldn’t want it. A little more time, that’s what they need. Even if it will take years, Sam will wait for her forgiveness.

“You really care about him,” Sam remarks with the corners of his lips curled upwards. Lauren just shrugs and lowers her head. Sam notices the light blush on her face.

“I’ve lived with Dean in the few months before you showed up. He grew close to something like a sister to me, back then.” A long breath escapes her lips and she raises her face again, eyes meeting his. “Dean is like family, and I do everything for family.”

Sam doesn’t say anything in return, but there’s no need to, either. He folds the paper a few times and puts it in his pocket. Then he clears his throat, indicating that that conversation is over. Rowena throws him a glare for the noise, but otherwise ignores him.

“You should head home. It’s my turn to babysit, anyway,” Sam tells her. Lauren nods quietly. With a certain force she once again pushes herself away from the wall. When she passes him, Sam can smell the fain scent of lavender on her skin. Her hair is loose and clean, almost inviting him to press his nose into it and nuzzle against her head. He wants to hold her close, to never let her go, but he can’t. He lost that privilege after lying to her.

“I’ll go back to the bunker,” Lauren tells him after grabbing her bag. She puts her hair back up into a messy bun, showing her beautiful neck once again. “A visit is due, anyway, and I need to scold your brother for keeping him dying from me.”

Sam snorts but doesn’t say anything else. After a quick wave, Lauren is out, heading back to his house with a certainty in her that Sam wishes he had, too. The thing about Lauren; she rarely hesitates. She’s a daredevil, never second-guessing things and just going for it. As he sits here, he’s trying to talk himself out of it more often than not. Dean’s words sunk in, but it’s on Sam whether he’s going to act on it.

One part wants to give up, to agree that whatever Rowena has planned with the Colt is too dangerous for the twins and might bring them in danger. The other part reminds him that the twins are Nephilim, and that Dean would be there, too, to keep them safe. He should take the risk.

As he sits here in silence, the only sound being Rowena’s pen scribbling on the paper and the occasional turn of a page of the book, Sam thinks back of a night so many years ago. It had been the fourth of July as well, and Dean had brought fireworks. Dad had been on a hunt, and he would have been so pissed if he had known that they’d run out of the motel.

It had been one of the best nights Sam can remember. There had been no worry, no cold, no loneliness. It had just been his brother and him, standing close to each other as they watch the fireworks Dean had lid up and was then painting the sky.

Dean has always been there to take care of him; he cooked for him, gave away the last of the food to make sure Sam was fed. He changed his diapers, bought new clothes for him when he’d outgrew his. He helped Sam get his driver’s license, gave him tips on how to date girls. Was there to keep bully’s from beating the crap out of him – most of the time, depending on what school they went to.

There’s so much Sam owes to Dean, and back then he always took it for granted. He left him when he went to college, never called, never really thought about him much further since he only wanted to leave the life behind. But then he remembers the pain he had felt when Dean had died after the Hellhounds got him. He can see Dean’s lifeless, bloodied face in front of him, eyes staring into nothingness and mouth fallen open as he had taken his last breath.

He remembers how he had been so drunk off his ass when he tried to trade his own soul for his brother’s. Remembering the path of self-destruction he was going to put himself into upon realizing that there was nothing to bring his brother back.

His heart already aches at the idea that that gigantic hole would return into his chest when his brother will once again let out his last breath, and his heart will stop beating.

He quickly shakes his head; the last thing he should be thinking about right now is Dean dying. If all goes according to plan, Dean will live, Rowena will be dead, and they will all just have a chance to be a happy family. Alan and Jonah will have both of their fathers in their lives. Cas won’t become a widower. Sam won’t lose his brother.

He makes up a plan in his head; the feather of an Archangel will be the last thing he’ll get. He’ll have to do it here, too, so that he can offer it to Rowena immediately. Gabriel will be pissed off when he puts her back into the ring of holy fire, but only that way can Sam make sure that she won’t smite him down on the spot.

Summoning Gabriel won’t be the problem; trying to get the feather out of her will be. Sam’s almost a hundred percent sure that she will refuse and make a stupid joke. He wonders if Rowena has a spell that will make Gabriel’s wings corporeal, but giving her knowledge, he’s almost sure of it.

Sam checks on his phone to see how late it is, only to find that he has several missed calls and texts, most coming from his brother and a few from Cas. It’s about three in the night, meaning that it’s the fifth. Tomorrow will be Dean’s last living day if it all fails. It’s getting awfully close, and Sam is running out of time.

Sam opens the texts, reading them one after the other. It’s mostly Dean telling him to return to the bunker, to stop whatever he’s doing. The further he goes, the more he’s begging of him to come back. No longer is he throwing accusations, the tone of his messages changing the closer he gets to the end.

 _Please, Sam, just come home. I don’t want to spend my last day apart from my brother_.

That last text brings tears to Sam’s eyes, and he only notices he’s actually crying when an actual sob is escaping from his mouth. He quickly turns to look at Rowena, who has by now fallen asleep on the table. He should give her a rest; he’ll need her in top condition for this, after all. He’ll wake her up again in a few hours.

He startles when suddenly his phone starts vibrating. The name on his screen is neither Dean’s nor Cas’, but instead he finds the letters forming Lauren’s instead. Without hesitation he picks up, pressing the device against his ear. He can’t help rubbing into his eyes and letting out a yawn before speaking up.

“Yeah?” he asks, not bothering to greet her. She wouldn’t call unless it was necessary.

“ _Sam, Gabriel is here. She went to check on the twins, and now Dean and Cas are telling her about our plan with Rowena,”_ Lauren says in a hushed tone on the other side of the line. Sam can imagine her having run out of the room to call him up, and he’s wondering if Gabriel is listening in on them or not.

“I have to go,” Sam says, figuring that he doesn’t have much time. He knows Gabriel can figure out where they are in just a matter of minutes – he just has to read Lauren’s mind for it – and she will smite Rowena on the spot. If he kills the witch, Sam will have nothing left; no hope to save his brother.

“What’s going on?” Rowena asks when Sam jumps up. Apparently his voice has woken her up, and she’s staring at him with sleepy eyes, looking like she could use a few more hours. It’s only normal, after spending the entire day translating an old witch book with ancient spells, while chained to the floor.

“There’s an Archangel on its way here, probably to smite you down,” Sam says, fishing out his knife and cutting a straight line on the back of his lower arm. Rowena stares at him with wide eyes despite her exhaustion, watching the drops of blood falling down to the floor. Sam pays her no mind as he starts painting a familiar symbol on the wall.

“You see that bottle on the table? That’s holy oil. Make a circle on the ground with it, and when Gabriel is inside of it you light it up.” He throws the keys to the cuffs at her, wishing he had brought his lighter instead. As quickly as she can, Rowena unbinds herself and she moves to draw a circle on the ground with the oil. Sam’s sure she knows a spell to make fire. 

Sam finishes the symbol right on time. He can hear the flapping of wings before he can turn around, but Rowena’s gasp of breath is another indication that the Archangel has arrived.

“My, my, Sammy, you’re really getting desperate, aren’t you?” the by-now familiar voice of Gabriel asks. Sam wonders if he’ll ever hear Gabriel again in her male vessel, which she seems to prefer. When he turns around, he sees the young girl she’s using as a vessel with her hands resting on her hips, face looking unimpressed at the younger Winchester.

She’s wearing her usual blue plaid shirt and her ugly green pants, and her hair looks as curly as ever, but there’s something strange in her chocolate brown eyes that Sam can’t immediately place. Is it pity? Disappointment? He doesn’t know why Gabriel would even feel the _need_ to be disappointed in him, since Sam owed him nothing.

“You can’t keep me from saving my brother,” Sam mutters out, glad he drew the symbol low enough for him to shield it away with his body. He’s not sure if it’ll work on Archangels, but he feels like he has to at least try.

Rowena looks frozen in place, on one hand staring at Gabriel in awe but on the other hand appearing as frightened as a man facing a wild lion. Her hands are gripping the desk tightly, the bottle fallen down to pieces on the ground the moment Gabriel appeared.

“Oh but that’s where you’re wrong, Sammy, because I can, and I will,” Gabriel says, voice low and almost dangerous. She takes a step forward, but Sam doesn’t know if it’s enough. Only Rowena knows where the circle is. He counts on her igniting the fire before Gabriel gets too close to her.

“Dean deserves to live!” Sam counters, knowing that his stinging eyes are at the verge of tears. He remembers discussing Dean’s life with Gabriel before, after all those blasted Tuesdays and then all those months without him, chasing the Archangel and killing off a fake Bobby with it.

“If God thinks his time has come, why do you keep defying him?” Gabriel brings up while taking another step, and that seems to be enough for Rowena, who mutters a soft word Sam can’t hear from where he’s standing, and then a circle of fire comes to life, trapping the Archangel inside.

“We’ve ignored God’s plans a few times before. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind us ignoring it one more time,” Sam offers. He dares not move from his spot at the wall, afraid that Gabriel would see the symbol he’s drawn there. He can’t stall, though. The blood will dry, and Sam knows from experience that the Angels are cast away for longer periods of time when the sigil is freshly made.

“It’s always one more time with you two, Sam.” Gabriel doesn’t seem amused in the least. Sam doesn’t care. “One day, it has to stop. And I’m making sure that _today_ is that day.” Gabriel puts her hands in her pockets, as if ready to wait. What she isn’t taking into account is Rowena, who has by now already started chanting another cantation.

This one isn’t familiar to Sam, and worse of all, not planned. His ears are ringing, attention divided all over the place, so he can’t manage to concentrate on the words she’s speaking out. Gabriel starts twitching a little bit on the spot, moving her shoulders up and down as if she’s uncomfortable or she pulled a muscle.

“You will bring danger back to Earth,” Gabriel warns him, though she seems awfully distracted. Sam lowers his guard a little bit, watching how two dark shadows slowly but surely start emerging from Gabriel’s shoulder blades. They don’t look tangible, and impossible to touch, but with Rowena’s continuing chanting, Sam notices that Gabriel has all but stopped moving and has pulled her face in a painful expression.

“What are you doing?” the Archangel asks through gritted teeth. The fire is burning all around her, flames almost caressing her skin where she’s close to the circle. It brings dark rings under her eyes, dangerous shadows that would look perfect in a horror movie, which is almost what this situation here feels like, especially with the wings now starting to take form.

Sam isn’t all that surprised when Gabriel’s feathers end up being a rich golden color mixed with a bit of brown. She’s got gigantic wings, probably bigger than Cas’, though Sam couldn’t compare it. Gabriel is trying her best to keep the flames from licking against her now visible feathers, but it seems quite a task for her.

Rowena then starts walking forward, reaching out a hand above the fire – the flames spread away, as if avoiding her skin – and then she grabs ahold of one the feathers, pulling it away. It results in another painful wince from Gabriel, who can move again the moment Rowena pulls away. When the witch stops her incantation, Gabriel’s completely mobile again as much as she can in her fiery prison, and her wings are once again hidden from human eyes.

“You know, you could have just asked, bitch,” Gabriel snaps at Rowena, grabbing at something behind her that Sam can no longer see. Then her eyes meet Sam’s again, and Gabriel lets out a long sigh. “Listen, Sam, I know this is hard for you, but it’s just how it’s meant to be.”

“Dean deserves to _live_! Alan and Jonah deserve their father!” Sam shouts, now even louder. He knows he’s just repeating after himself, but what else can he say? This, all of it, is for Dean, to make sure that he will live.

“You worked so hard to close the gates of Hell. Giving Rowena what she wants will undo everything you’ve suffered so much for,” Gabriel warns him once more. Sam shoots Rowena a short look, seeing how she turns her head innocently. The moment he banishes Gabriel, she’s ending back into the cuffs. She’ll never even have a look at the Colt, that he can promise himself.

“Enough,” Sam breathes out, tired of talking. He knows he won’t be able to make Gabriel see that he has a plan. Not without revealing it to Rowena, and if he would do that she would surely bail and refuse to cooperate any more. With a tired movement, Sam raises his hand towards the sigil on the wall behind him. His body turns away a bit, revealing the drawing. He can only just catch Gabriel’s surprised look before a loud noise comes up, followed by a big white light.

After a few seconds, the fire has died down and Gabriel is gone.

 

* * *

 

 

_Meanwhile, in Heaven_

 

Things have been quiet for a while, now. Prayers have come and gone from the humans, a few Angels have come up with humble requests that have graciously been granted, and a few more souls (and by that we actually mean: a lot) have started to take residence back into Heaven.

Azrael is mostly spending her time in her office, waiting for things to happen. Patience has always been her strongest trait, and she knows most of the Angels admire her for it. The key is thinking of the outcome, of the result of all the waiting. Looking forward to what she can make of Heaven is what keeps her going all the time. A few setbacks come and go, but are mostly handled with in a short time.

It’s been a long while since she’s taken a look back on Earth; she’s trying to distance herself from the mortals. They’re not worth her time, all that matters to her are her brothers and sisters.

“Azrael,” Naomi calls from behind her. Azrael, who has been looking outside the window for a few hours, turns around in a smooth and stiff movement. Her hands are held together behind her back, and she keeps her head up high.

“Yes, Naomi?” Azrael asks, knowing that her sister wouldn’t come bothering her without a good reason. She takes a good look at her vessel, seeing a classy middle-aged woman who keeps her hair up in that strict hair style that looks like it would hurt a human if they would wear it for an entire day. Luckily, Angels don’t feel such petty pains and aren’t restricted by a human’s sensitivity.

“Something has happened,” Naomi says, and Azrael can almost roll her eyes – almost, because rolling her eyes would show emotions, and Azrael is above such a human trait. She raises her eyebrows, indicating that Naomi should continue talking. “Gabriel has returned.”

Something _has_ happened, Azrael thinks to herself, and she tells herself that that small shudder going through her vessel isn’t fear.

“Bring me to him,” Azrael orders, and Naomi nods before guiding her along the way.


	27. Don’t worry, I’m the cool kind of sister

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeesh, these chapters seem to be getting shorter every time! I apologise for that, I've had every chapter summarised a year ago, but as it turns out I changed enough of the story since that time that I can't really use everything I had planned for it! I will try to make the next one a bit longer!

_Heaven, July 5th_

Gabriel usually isn’t one to follow protocol all of the time. He’s defied his father more often than not, leaving Heaven after all that bullshit between Lucifer and Michael happened.

Why should he have stayed into his broken home? Lucifer had caused such a drift between them; Michael took charge, Raphael lost all kind of emotion and bickered more often than not with Michael for agreeing with their fallen brother’s ways. Gabriel, youngest of the four, one day just simply had enough of it.

They called him weak, back on Earth when they trapped him. They’d put him in a ring of holy fire, and threw accusations at him for not being able to live with his broken family anymore. He could try to tell them how he felt about the whole situation, but it wouldn’t matter. The Winchesters, in the end, only seem to care about their own family. The pains that happens in others aren’t important.

And Gabriel had loved Lucifer with all his heart. The Morningstar had taken care of him when he was only a fledgling, guiding him to understanding the powers he was given and making him understand the task that was given to him. When Dean Winchester asked him to kill the only older brother he really cared about – the only older brother that really cared about him – Gabriel had been drawn into a corner.

Isn’t it ironic that, now that the roles are reversed and Dean is the one risking death, Sam is going crazy with grief as well, throwing accusations at Gabriel about things the Archangel can’t change anything about?

As Gabriel is lying on the ground, he understands that things have gone horribly wrong. _Keep it out of Heaven. They don’t need to know, or chaos is going to erupt_. That’s the most important thing his father told him after giving him his instructions. After forcing him inside this vessel, unfamiliar and small – or at least smaller than the previous one.

Gabriel is lying on his back, looking at the endless sky of some soul’s Heaven. He doesn’t know where he is, but he does understand that he’s surrounded by a lot of Angels who heard him arriving here. If banishing a regular Angel back into Heaven causes a commotion, an Archangel makes double the noise and raises five times more heads than regular.

“Gabriel,” he hears somebody says. The voice is female, with a strong scent of authority on it. Gabriel can sense her Grace from where he’s lying on the floor, recognizing her as Azrael, current ruler of Heaven. Gabriel knows God isn’t all too happy about her winning the elections, which has mostly been why he set to work on leaving his legacy. Gabriel doesn’t know where in Heaven he’s finding himself in right now, but the fact that Azrael got warned about him can’t mean anything good.

“Azrael,” Gabriel greets her while standing up again. It’s been a while since he’s been banished back into Heaven, and is forcefully reminded at how uncomfortable it is. It’s like somebody’s been pulling an awful lot on his wings, forcing them into a painful position for a few years. The limbs of his vessel feel stiff and weak, his head spinning around with every movement he makes. The real bitch about it is that he’s going to be stuck here for a few hours, and he’s not sure how long he can stall Azrael before she’s going to put him into the dungeons. She doesn’t seem like the type to show him much respect.

 “Back from the dead, I see?” Azrael asks. Gabriel can see what everybody meant with her practically being a robot. He recalls Castiel’s earliest days, remembering how stiffly he had been. Azrael can be seen as so much worse. Where Cas had even a bit of hope of getting better at understanding humanity, it seems that Azrael can never be taught.

“I must say, I didn’t expect you taking a porn-star as a vessel?” Gabriel jokes, taking a good look at the Asian woman standing in front of him. She’s slim, wearing a long white classic dress, with long black hair going down in a straight line. Her face is free of make-up, but she wouldn’t need it anyway, being a beauty all on her own. “She must have been of the earlier editions of _Busty Asian Beauties_ , mustn’t she? Kira Yamamoto, right?”

There’s a twitch of emotion showing on her face, and a few surprised sounds coming from the other Angels around them.

“How would you know?” she asks dryly. Gabriel pulls his lips together and raises his eyebrows.

“I’ve been in the porno, remember?” he says smugly. He’s seen her face appear more than once, and Gabriel never forgets a face like that. Azrael huffs out a breath, much to everybody’s surprise. So he’s getting under her skin? That’s improvement, really.

Azrael turns to look at the other Angels around her, nodding at them all once. “Would you all give me a moment with our sister?” she asks.

“Brother,” Gabriel corrects her quickly. It doesn’t matter if he’s stuck inside a girl now, he’ll always see himself as male. Azrael offers him a long look. Of course, she doesn’t put much value in genders; it was no trouble for her to switch from a male vessel to no vessel at all, to eventually a male one.

“Brother,” Azrael then repeats, and then the other Angels are disappearing, following the Angel’s request at privacy. Gabriel wonders if they would have obeyed had he asked them this. Would they even obey the littlest Winchester that will follow God’s footsteps? Gabriel doubts it, but that’s what he’s here for, right?

Eventually, they’re both alone in a big open meadow, in the distance a young man letting out his kite into the windy sky of his personal Heaven, not even noticing the two Angels standing there behind him. In fact, Azrael is quite a smart one; at least this way there’s no witnesses here. Gabriel doesn’t know how she’s so much stronger than the other Angels – because he can sense her strength even from standing in front of her – but he has no doubt that they’ll be equals in a fight. Probably.

“Why have you returned?” Azrael asks, pulling her arms behind her back and starting to walk in a circle around him. Gabriel keeps on standing where he is, not planning on following her. He’s already dizzy, there’s no need in making it worse.

“Well, to be honest I wasn’t planning on it. I just got banished by a gigantic Moose, you see?” Gabriel jokes, but actually telling the truth at the same time. He can’t see Azrael’s expression because she’s now circling behind him, but he’s sure she’s not impressed at all.

“I mean why have you been brought back to the living?” the Angel clarifies, and Gabriel snorts. Of course he knows what she meant the first time, but there’s nothing more fun than to pretend you’re not following, right? Besides, he wants to test Azrael’s patience. He’s heard a lot about it, but he has yet to see that hard exterior she’s showing. He already caught irritation on her, which is pretty much an emotion.

“I guess God just thought things were a bit too boring up here,” Gabriel lets out with a smirk. Now he finally turns his head back, seeing her walk back in the corner of his eyes with her hands still stuck behind her back. Her white dress is stroking over the grass, but it’s not getting dirty. “But you have to tell me, Kira Yamamoto? How did you end up getting inside of her? I mean, you wouldn’t be the first one figuratively, of course…”

Azrael raises her head and snorts before standing still again. Her big brown eyes rest on the grass underneath her toes, but her posture is straight and strong as ever.

“She was about to end her life, ashamed of all she’s done in her last… _career_. I promised her she would be brought to Heaven if I was allowed to inhabit her body.” She states it off as if the story doesn’t bother her that much.

“So you’re all alone in there?” Gabriel asks, and Azrael looks up to stare at him, mouth pressed into a thin line as she thinks.

“I prefer being alone in my mind,” she answers shortly.

“You just didn’t want her pulling you back into humanity, didn’t you?” he insinuates. Azrael’s eyes look like they’re spitting fire, now. Her face looks pale and almost lifeless, but Gabriel can sense he’s hit a soft spot. “That’s what happened with the last vessel, didn’t it? Back with Norelia. You loved her more than anything else in the world. And when Heaven was ordered to kill her, you blamed humanity for making you care, didn’t you?”

Azrael literally growls and throws herself onto Gabriel, pushing him down on the ground with a surprising force. She has a blade in her hand, pointing it at his throat, but both of them know that a simple Angel Blade can’t kill him. Wound him, yes, but not much more than that.

“You don’t know _anything_!” Azrael hisses, pressing her lower arm on his throat and forcing his whole body down. Gabriel raises his hands as an indication that he’s not planning on fighting back, but he’s not sure that will convince her to let go. “Humanity made me weak, made me blind to see the abomination I had created along with all my brothers. And they were all too caught up in their mourning to understand it was all for the greater good.”

“Who was it that killed Norelia?” Gabriel asks after a few seconds of silence. Azrael pulls back a little bit, but not enough for him to get free again. At least the knife is removed from his throat. “It was Michael, wasn’t it? He was the one to order the execution, wasn’t he?”

Azrael lets out a surprised gasp, and finally pulls away from Gabriel by taking a few steps back. The Archangel gets back on his feet then, stretching his limbs and massaging his neck. He took quite the blow when he fell down on the ground.

“What does it matter?” she then asks, all emotion once again having left her voice. Gabriel sighs. He’d gotten some sort of reaction out of her, but now she seems back to being a moving statue. “She’s dead, should never even have been born in the first place. Michael just helped me see it.”

“But she _did_ deserve to live,” Gabriel counters. “God never put out the order to kill them, and you know it. The only reason why she was sentenced to death is because Michael was threatened by their powers.”

“And he was right to,” Azrael returns. Gabriel can almost roll his eyes; there’s no way to make her go back on her point. Whatever happened that specific day, it really broke something inside of her.

Suddenly, though, they’re not in the meadow anymore. Gabriel notices some sort of office with bare grey walls. There’s not much in the room other than a desk and a chair. It’s also only then that Gabriel notices that he’s somehow pressed against the wall, and there’s once more a blade resting against his throat. Gabriel comes close to sighing again.

“Why have you been brought back, Gabriel?” Azrael asks in a low tone. She seems upset again, bitter or angry, Gabriel can’t really tell. He’s surprised at how much he’s made her react so far, after hearing so much about her bluntness.

“Because daddy loved me the most,” Gabriel hisses, though every single Angel in Heaven would know that Lucifer had always been God’s favorite child. Sure, there has been some bitterness about that, especially from Michael, but Gabriel – the independent one most of the time – never really let it bother him.

He lets out a painful grunt when Azrael passes the knife over the skin on his cheek, making a deep cut that burns almost immediately. It’s not a big one, but it stings like a bitch.

“I’ll repeat my question: _why_ have you returned?” she asks. Gabriel can almost curse; he’s still not back to full strength, so there’s no chance of him fighting her off. Whatever she’s drawing her power from, it’s really strong. She could almost match an Archangel.

Then Gabriel understands.

“You have the Angel Tablet, don’t you?” he asks instead of answering the question. Azrael ignores him, instead making another cut on his other cheek now.

“Why. Have you. Returned?” Azrael repeats, and Gabriel is sure that this is the last time she’ll do that. He lets out a long breath, tries to turn his face away from the knife but not getting very far with it.

“Because you’re a crappy ruler and he wants somebody else in charge, bitch,” Gabriel says, purposely keeping the details out of it. He’s not _that_ weak. The surprise seems to be enough for Gabriel to grab this moment and push herself off him. She doesn’t stumble back, per se, but he does get far enough away from her to materialize his own blade and hold it up.

Her eyes fall on the weapon, and understanding must go through her immediately. While her blade couldn’t kill Gabriel, his _can_ kill her. He keeps it up just as a precaution, not intending to kill her right now. He’d rather have this without more spilled blood, but he fears that she won’t really give him a choice in the matter.

“Huh,” Azrael then suddenly breathes out, letting out a chuckle much to Gabriel’s surprise. “And I almost believed you, there. Of course, you’ve always been much of a trickster, haven’t you? Maybe you were never even dead?”

Before Gabriel can answer, the door to the office bursts open, and Gabriel can see Anna, Balthazar, Gadreel, Abner and Samandriel run inside, blades ready to strike if Azrael would go for the attack. She, in turn, just lowers her hands, relaxes her shoulders, and simply follows Gabriel as he walks towards the others.

“I _will_ find out what’s going on, Gabriel, and if I won’t like it, you will pay for it,” Azrael warns him. Gabriel knows it’s not an empty threat, but he doesn’t want to comment on it. Instead he jumps out of the office, quickly followed by the other Angels. In the hallway he’s greeted by other Angels he’s sure weren’t working with them before.

“They’re on our side,” Anna says, nodding to her left. “We need to get out of here, Azrael will surely figure out what’s going on soon enough.”

Gabriel nods, following her out of the endless hallways and exiting Heaven with the help of all the other Angels, since his wings are pretty much useless.

They land right back in the bunker, where it’s already a few hours later since he left, despite it only feeling like a few minutes for him. He can see no trace of Dean or Castiel, but he does catch Kevin in the room, who is staring at the sudden Angel army with wide, open eyes.

“What’s going on?” the Prophet asks hesitantly. Gabriel ignores him, instead turning towards Anna.

“So, what, these Angels just suddenly decided to switch teams?” Gabriel asks, pointing towards the new addition of Angels standing there. Anna shakes her head, but it’s not she who answers.

“We were never on her side, anyway,” one of them says. “Anna brought us up to date to what’s happening. I’m Inias, these are Hannah, Muriel, Daniel, Hael, Gail and Koka-“ But suddenly he stops talking, pointing at the empty spot next to Gail – who Gabriel recognizes as a Cupid. “Kokabiel is missing.”

“What? He was right behind me?” the Cupid calls out, and all the Angels turn around to see if anybody else is there, but there seems to be no sign of this Kokabiel. Gabriel recognizes the name, but has never met the Angel personally.

“With Naomi on their side, they’ll get the information out of him,” Samandriel warns them with a twitch of fear on his voice. He would know this more than the others, having been a victim of the brain-washing she seems to have been doing to him for over a few years.

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!” somebody suddenly shouts from behind them, and that person is nobody other than Dean Winchester, quickly followed by the worrying Castiel, who looks just as miserable as his husband. He looks nothing like the Angel he used to be, but Gabriel guesses that’s what being human does to somebody.

“Your idiot of a brother banished me to Heaven, that’s what happened!” Gabriel snaps back. “Now Azrael’s got a hostage, and she might be on our tail sooner than we think!”

Dean seems to be a bit surprised at the turn of events, but surely the sudden arrival of so many Angels might cause some distress. Castiel is already guiding him back on a chair, but Dean eventually pushes him away, obviously not in the mood to be mothered here.

“Did you at least stop Rowena?” Dean asks, and Gabriel then shakes his head, cursing that fact immediately. He knows Sam means well, but Hell _will_ be opened now no matter what, and there’s nothing more any of them can do about it. “Can’t you go after her now?”

“Oh, I’m sorry Dean, but I have more important things to tend to at the moment,” Gabriel snaps.

“What do you mean? You’ve got ten Angels here, at least one of them can go and smite her ass, right?” Dean counters.

“Not if Azrael’s on our ass! The twins are our priority now, whether you like it or not.”

Gabriel notices how Anna puts a hand on Dean’s shoulder to calm him down, and he’s glad that she’s here right now. She’s always been better at this kind of thing. Though, he does notice the sudden glare Castiel throws her when she touches his husband. Who knew the guy could get jealous?

“If it makes you feel better we can send one of us to check on your brother?” Anna asks, and Dean nods thankfully. Then Anna looks at the group of Angels and just after a second Gadreel nods.

“I’ll go,” he says. He doesn’t say goodbye to anybody, just flies away. Gabriel sees the hardened look on Abner’s face, but the Angel keeps his emotions in. Good, they really can’t afford any more distractions now.

“Guys,” somebody calls out from a room nearby. Great, somebody else has a problem to add to the pile they already have. Gabriel sees how Lauren Porter comes walking in with her car keys in her hands, but looking a bit confused. “Who locked the garage? I can’t get out?”

Dean only has to throw Cas one short look before the Angel stands up and heads back to their own front door, walking up the stairs in a quick pace. Everybody watches him as he goes up, and wait expectantly when he reaches for the door.

Nobody’s really surprised when the door doesn’t even budge. Right.

The surprised lock-down is then suddenly followed by an annoying shriek, seemingly coming from the walls. The humans all press their hands against their ears in a reflex, but the Angels aren’t too bothered with it.

“What’s going on!” Kevin asks in a shout, trying to come clear over the annoyingly loud sound. Gabriel only sighs.

“This, my friend, is a lockdown.”

 

* * *

 

 

_A few hours earlier_

 

Years ago, in a time where all Sam had was his faith and his brother, praying seemed to have been all that mattered to him. He let out a short prayer for his brother, who was keeping on getting himself into trouble. He prayed for Bobby, who, despite his age, still managed to get himself into trouble most of the times. He prayed for his mother and his father to be well received into Heaven, and that they would be in peace.

It wasn’t all that surprising that, between his brother and him, he was the one who actually believed that Angels would be listening to him. Which must have been why it had been such a blow in all his beliefs when Angels chose to reach out for Dean rather than him, mostly because of his blood being taint by demon’s blood.

Of course, Dean being the vessel for Michael and all the seals must have been a factor in it, too.

Sam doesn’t really know when he started to consider Cas a friend. The Angel’s been shady as hell the year Dean got out of Hell, but somehow he proved his worth by sacrificing himself to help Dean get to him. But back then, Sam had found Castiel’s death unfortunate rather than sad.

Somehow, during the whole Apocalypse, Cas seemed to have found something in Sam worth saving after getting himself in the cage. Sure, Cas didn’t do an all to good job at it, but it’s the gesture that counts, right?

Now, with Gabriel, Sam has _never_ been the best of friends with. First of all, the bastard found it funny to trap Sam in a loop in which Dean endlessly ended up killing himself in one stupid way or another. Secondly, Sam doesn’t appreciate getting kicked in the balls, especially by one of those Japanese devices or whatever from some sort of crap TV-contest. That, and ending up as a car and having your brother pulling guns out of your trunk isn’t really high on Sam’s proudest moments.

So does Sam feel regret right now, with his hand pressed against a bloody sigil drawn on the wall? No, not really. Gabriel’s a bastard, and deserves it well enough to be thrown back into Heaven. At least that’ll get her off their backs for the next few hours, and by the time she’s good to get out of Heaven they’re already long gone.

 “Where did you send her to?”

Sam realizes he’s been spoken to after a few seconds. He’s still got his hand on the wall, pressed against the sigil that is now branded into the paper. His ears are still ringing from the loud noise that came with Gabriel’s disappearance, and his eyes appear to have let out a few tears from the intense light. The few seconds of silence followed after that aren’t enough to pull Sam out of his daze.

It’s a surprise, really, that Rowena is still here. She might as well have gotten away right after banishing Gabriel, but here she is, hands resting on her hips and hair blown back by the blast.

“I banished her back to Heaven, but she will be back so you’ll have to hurry,” Sam says while getting back into action. He rolls his shoulders, cracks his neck loose and then gets back to the witch, wondering if he should get her back in the cuffs.

“What have you brought me into, now, Winchester?” Rowena asks as she fishes out her paper with the ingredients and offers it to Sam. Her eyes rest on the cuffs lying on the ground, but she relaxes when Sam makes no clear indication to bind her up again. “Everything’s translated, this is the list of what you need. I need to be sure you’ll give me the Colt when all of this is over. Do you have it?”

“What? Of course I do,” Sam says, but he’s a bit distracted as he reads through the last bundle of ingredients. If he can get Lauren to go for half of these, they might save off a whole day. Maybe he should call her, thank her for warning them just in time. Who knows what Gabriel would have done if she had succeeded in her quest to finish off Rowena.

“I need to _see_ it!” Rowena almost shouts. Oh, she’s nervous, alright. Understandable, since she’s got an Archangel chasing after her. Sam would be horrified, as well, had he not been possessed by Lucifer before. Nothing beats that, really, right?

The hunter rolls his eyes at her insistence, though, reaching behind him and taking the gun out of the back of his pants. For a short minute he holds it up, enough time for Rowena to take a good look at it before he puts it back away.

“You’ll get it after the spell is done, that was the deal,” Sam clarifies. He scraps the sigil he was working on when he realizes that he messed it up, and starts anew. Cas once told him their warding was often full of mistakes, and Sam never really figured out where he went wrong.

Rowena stays quiet, but it doesn’t take any psychic powers for Sam to understand she’s charging for him. In his head, he counts to three, and then he turns back around, fishing the Colt back into his hands and pointing it towards the Witch.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Sam says. He has no idea if she knows he’s bluffing; there are no more bullets inside of it, so it pretty much useless. Only Bobby knew what made the thing tick – and next to him Ruby, but they won’t hear from her, hopefully ever again.

Rowena, who had a long iron bar raised in the air, stops in her movement as she takes in the gun pointed at her. Her mouth falls open in surprise, and instinctively she takes a step back, lowering the iron bar in her hand and muttering out a few angry words Sam can’t understand.

“You’re all big _blah_ , but not much _tah_ , aren’t you, Moose?”

That voice, that low, smug and sarcastic voice. It’s almost quite literally the last thing Sam wants to hear right now. He means to turn around, to point the gun back at Crowley, who’s standing behind him, but before he can do that, something hard hits him on the head.

He never feels himself touching the ground, and the darkness surrounds him before he can think much of it.

 

* * *

 

 

  _Meanwhile in Heaven_

Azrael isn’t one to shout panic when things don’t go the way she wants them to. Sure, she would have loved to have a calm, quiet century filled with peace and rest for her and her brothers and sisters, despite the trouble Castiel would have brought when he’d be welcomed back to Heaven.

Had it been up to her, though, she would have banished him completely. She’s never felt any sort of compassion for him, but that’s mostly also because she just can’t place herself in his shoes. Or maybe the troubling thing is that she actually _can_ , having loved once so fiercely as well.

For a long while she’s told herself that allowing him to return is the right thing to do, and that it would bring her brothers and sisters to rest if, or when, they would object. The possibility that she’s been so lenient on him simply because he reminds her of herself from all those years ago has never really crossed her mind.

“How is it going, sister?” Azrael asks calmly with her arms neatly behind her back. She’s still wearing her long white dress, and her hair is as flawless as ever, but inside her head things are going on a rampage. Her exterior can shield it away for now, but she’s not sure how long it can last.

Has it been Gabriel’s words that brought her mind in such trouble? Or is it simply watching her confused brother being taken care of by Naomi that does it? The screams are loud enough to make any Angel weep, but Azrael doesn’t do that anymore, nor will she ever shed a tear again.

“We got nothing so far,” Naomi answers, pushing in another pin that causes Kokabiel to let out another excruciating and piercing scream that would make a human go deaf. Other Angels have already fled the halls nearby, unable to remain near the source of the sound. It’s a reminder to them that they are still not united, despite all the work they’ve been doing in getting things back on track.

_But she did deserve to live. God never put out the order to kill them, and you know it. The only reason why she was sentenced to death is because Michael was threatened by their powers._

No! She’s put this behind her centuries ago. The abomination should never have been created in the first place, and it took Azrael a long time to understand that. Not only did Cassia suffer great when she was carrying it, the Nephilim would have been able to just kill her during that time. The whole pregnancy had been a great risk. Such harm should not be put on humans, no matter how puny one would see them. It has been their task to take care of the fragile race of men, and to intentionally bring pain to one of them would be considered worth of punishment. Lucifer had fallen for it, and Azrael understands she could have been the next, had she intentionally brought upon so much pain to the human who carried the thing he created.

“ _Yes, it hurt quite a bit,_ ” Cassia had said afterwards when they had been lying together with the thing between their faces. It had been sleeping peacefully, not looking like anything too harmful. _“But I would do it again, if I would get such a beautiful child in return_.”

They’d gone through the years in a bliss, and with each year that went by, Azrael had been more blinded by the child’s powers of innocence. She should have seen it coming; a child powerful than an Angel can only bring destruction with it.

And it had pleaded with her when they brought her along for her execution. It had screamed out for her, begged her to help, and Azrael had been so enchanted by it that she had to be held back by her brothers and sisters.

Why would Gabriel bring the Nephilim up, though, Azrael wonders. The last Nephilim on Earth has been destroyed a few years ago by Metatron and Castiel – it’s a surprise the abomination got to live that long anyway.

“Azrael,” Naomi suddenly says, pulling the Angel out of her train of thoughts. She’s really not herself anymore; her mind is constantly wandering, emotions are starting to appear against her will, and old, buried memories come crawling back up.

Things are not alright, and Azrael will do everything she can to make sure the other Angels won’t ever get to see this side of her.

“What’s new?” she asks her sister, keeping her voice strong and calm. Naomi touches one of the needles and a short but loud scream escapes from Kokabiel. Then, their brother starts talking in their ancient tongue, one which has never been spoken for thousands of years and can only be read by a Prophet of the lord. Luckily, they can all understand it.

Azrael listens well to the words he says, for they are clearly not just simple sentences strung together. This is an actual Prophecy, or it’s aiming to be one, at least. It’s a bit of a sloppy one, and Azrael’s not sure if it’s completely trustworthy, but Naomi seems to be certain that she’s reached far enough inside his mind to get the truth.

“What do you mean?” Azrael asks after Kokabiel finishes talking and shuts his mouth again. Of course, Azrael knows what he means, but she doesn’t know nearly enough. “Naomi?”

Naomi twists another pin, Kokabiel lets out another shout, and then he continues.

“Our brother Castiel,” he starts, but then he’s quiet again. Still, it’s enough for Azrael, who feels a cold chill pass over her. Her mouth has fallen open without her realizing it, and she only notices the confused look coming from Naomi after a short while.

“And Dean Winchester,” Azrael mutters out. Of course, it’s what she feared, after all. She warned Castiel about it, and the Angel had assured her that it wouldn’t be possible. It _isn’t_ possible, still. Neither of them can carry a child, so there’s nothing she should be worried about, right?

But, Gabriel is involved in this as well, quite obviously the next one in charge about it. He has the power to bend reality at his will, so did he do something? What did he force upon them?

“How is it possible?” Azrael asks, only noticing too late that her voice is raised. If Naomi notices the change in her tone, she doesn’t show it. She’s quite a loyal sister, and Azrael knows she should be lucky to have her, but she knows Naomi would just have followed whoever would have become their leader, and the brother she’s currently torturing to get information out might have been just that.

Kokabiel stays quiet. Azrael waits. But when an answer doesn’t come, she throws one more look at Naomi. There’s another scream, and then Kokabiel starts talking at last.

“Gabriel… Dean Winchester is a woman… carrying twins.”

So there’s not only one of those abominations about to threaten their peace, but two of them?

“Naomi, gather our brothers and sisters,” Azrael says, trying to stay calm but barely succeeding. Her voice is so close to cracking. “We need to make another visit to Earth.”

Azrael hasn’t been to Earth since the elimination of the last Nephilim ages ago. She’s aware of how the world has changed, but hasn’t seen it with her own eyes. For the first time, she expands the sight of her Grace, touching down and searching for the all-too-familiar souls of Sam and Dean Winchester, only to find that they are not to be found.

With that, she opens her eyes again and gives Naomi a short look. Her sister nods and makes a small bow.

“Of course, Azrael,” she says, and then she leaves the room, leaving Azrael and Kokabiel alone.

“We will be return for you, and we’ll get you back in order,” Azrael promises her brother, who is clearly still hurting in the chair he’s seated in. Kokabiel lets out a painful groan. Azrael puts her fingers on his forehead and lets her powers flow to him. He’s weakened enough to succumb to them.

With just a soft promise against his ear, Azrael puts Kokabiel to sleep, and after that she’s off, leaving the safe space of Heaven again for the first time in thousands of years.

 

* * *

 

_Lebanon, Kansas, Men of Letters HQ_

The alarms stop after about half an hour.

There’s no clear indication as to why it started in the first place, but according to Gabriel it’s because of the sudden arrival of ten or so Angels inside such a heavily warded place. Sure, the bunker can accept one, maybe two Angels inside without finding it weird, but ten is about enough to get all the sensors in overdrive.

Instead of alarms, though, now there’s a lot of shouting instead. It comes from everywhere, and everyone, and nobody seems inclined to stop no matter how much Dean presses his face against the table and lets out a loud groan of frustration.

Gabriel is shouting orders at every Angel currently inside of the building. As it turns out, with the bunker locked down, the Angels can leave the place as they choose, but they won’t be able to get inside again without clearing the area of all possible danger, which is probably the few thousand of Angels probably roaming the Earth as they look for them.

Gabriel wants to get a few Angels out of the building, to draw off the others and keep them as far away from here as possible. Cas, on the other hand, seems to disagree with this.

“Going out there is suicide, Gabriel!” Cas countered the first time Gabriel proposed the plan.

“And all of us are willing to die for this cause, little brother!” Gabriel had returned to that. Makes sense; defending the future God with their lives, it’s only suspected, really.

“But you can all just get out, it’s not like anybody can get inside until the coast is clear?” Kevin proposes, though with a voice raised when the other Angels start bickering in between, one side agreeing with Castiel and the other with Gabriel.

“Yeah, sure, good luck getting Dean to the hospital once he goes into labor when the doors are all sealed and we can’t come to fetch you out,” Balthazar responds while shaking his head. “Humans, they just don’t think things through.”

“Oh, as if you’re putting some great ideas to the table!” Kevin defends himself, and that’s really how it all starts.

They’ve been at it for an hour now, probably, and there’s still no news on Sam – which is only normal since all the signals are jammed and there’s no way for him to send his brother a text. The only thing left to do is to hope that Gadreel found him in time and stopped him from doing something stupid.

“How about you all just shut up and think? If you go out, you might actually just draw attention instead of keeping it away. You’ll lead them straight to us,” Lauren calls out. Dean throws her a short look, but notices she’s got her back turned to him.

“They wouldn’t have been here hadn’t you and your lover-boy gone and made a deal with a fucking witch!” Gabriel ends up screaming, finally hitting the limit so it seems. “If he hadn’t banished me to Heaven, Azrael would never have found out-“

“Hadn’t he banished you to Heaven, you would have killed the only thing that could succeed in keeping Dean alive!”

Dean smashes his face against the table again. Months ago, he would have been right in the middle of this fight, throwing insults around and ordering that his decision would be final. Now, he just doesn’t have the energy for it.

“The only thing that could keep Dean alive right now is an order from God, and I don’t recall one of those being called out lately. It sucks, I know, but life goes on!”

“So Dean’s nothing more than a breeding-cow to you, is that it? As long as he pops out the babies, everything will be fine no matter if he lives through it or not?” Cas doesn’t seem pleased.

“Thanks for calling me a cow,” Dean mutters out against the table.

“Damn it Dean, it was just an expression,” Cas counters angrily. Dean just raises his hands in surrender. He doesn’t want to be thrown in this. Being an outsider is bad enough as it is.

“I don’t see what your problem is, Cas. You get a family, isn’t that what you wanted?”

“BUT IT WOULDN’T BE A COMPLETE FAMILY WITHOUT DEAN YOU ASSHOLE!”

Dean gets up after that. It’s when Cas gets really furious that Dean knows he has to get out of there. There’s going to be some emotional shit storming out of his husband, hidden feelings that he kept cropped up for so long, that he doesn’t want to hear right now. All of Cas’ insecurities will get out, all his anger towards his siblings, his disappointment in his father.

Dean heard them all before, and he’s tried his best to comfort him through it, but there’s just some stuff even a loved one can’t get away. A lot of things still bother Dean, and no matter how much Cas will try, only Dean himself could get through them.

His ears are ringing the moment he ends up in his bedroom. With the change of the walls, no sound from the other rooms get inside, which was exactly what Dean had been aiming for. He drops himself down on his bed, facing the ceiling. His mouth is dropped open slightly as he tries to take deep breaths, but that only ends up hurting in his chest. His hands go to his face and press against his forehead, putting a bit of pressure on it to get the headache away.

He hears a knock on the door, but doesn’t move as he invites the person inside. Hopefully, whoever it is, doesn’t want to search for a fight in here. Dean doesn’t think he has it in him to bring up any kind of argument; he would end up agreeing with everything no matter how stupid it seems.

“Dean?” Claire asks as she opens the door. Dean turns his head slightly and opens his eyes, watching how the teenager walks inside uncertainly. She closes the door behind her, muting the screaming from outside again.

“Claire, is there something wrong?” Dean asks as he pulls himself up again in a slow movement. He can’t move too quickly without getting dizzy or pains in the back. Claire only steps forward again and then drops herself down on the bed, lying right next to him before he can actually get up. Dean stops his attempt and relaxes again, eyes taking in the young girl who is making herself comfortable in his bed.

“That’s quite a fight happening out there,” Claire gets out, trying to be light about it. Her voice betrays her by breaking, and she smashes her lips together again and then shakes her head. “I know I haven’t really spoken much to you since I’ve arrived here. I’m sorry.”

“I know you’re not my biggest fan,” Dean reminds her. Claire lets out a short chuckle but then shakes her head again.

“That’s not- I’m over that, really. It’s just… the idea of becoming… friends… it didn’t feel all that right to get attached,” Claire confesses. She puts her hands on her stomach and turns her head to look right at him. A strange feeling passes through Dean as he takes in those familiar blue eyes. She really got them from Jimmy.

He wonders if the twins would get Cas’ eyes as well.

“Because I’m dying,” Dean guesses. The guilty expression on Claire’s face is enough to confirm it. Dean doesn’t feel angry for it, though. He can only understand her way of thinking. Who would want to become friends with somebody they’re sure will die? It only leads to suffering, in the end.

They stay quiet after that, instead just enjoying each other’s company for a little while. Surely, the fight in the war room is still going, but it’s clear they haven’t noticed his leaving, or Cas would have come after him.

There’s a painful kick against one of his organs, and Dean lets out a painful groan, It came from the right, which means it’s Jonah. He’s quite the violent type, really.

“What’s wrong?” Claire asks in worry. She sits up a bit, her hands held out just in case she needs to act quickly. Dean just chuckles and tries to sit up a little bit with his head against the bed board.

“It’s Jonah, seeming to think my liver is a soccer ball,” Dean explains. Claire’s eyes open wide in awe, and her hands lower, this time reaching for Dean’s belly in question. Dean just nods, figuring it won’t hurt.

Claire rests her hand on the gigantic lump that houses the twins, and as if they sense the remnants of Cas’ Grace inside of her, the both of them let out a simultaneous kick to make aware that they notice her. It’s not exactly comfortable to have them so excited, but it’s not the worst feeling in the world.

The young girl next to him can only let out a laugh as she feels them against her hand. Her whole face lights up and before Dean knows it her ear is pressed against his body as she tries to listen to something.

“You can speak to them, they hear you,” Dean says quickly.

“Hey Al and Jo, it’s your big sister here,” Claire then finally says, voice extremely soft. People always change their tones when they start talking to children, and Claire is no exception to that rule. Dean wishes he could take a picture of this moment, and that he could take it with him to Heaven when it’s all over. The fact that Claire feels comfortable enough to be shown in such a vulnerable and emotional way is accomplishment enough for Dean. He got her trust, something he was sure he would never get.

“Don’t worry, I’m the cool kind of sister; I’ll teach you great things, like music and movies, and of course I’ll bring you up to date with all the awesome TV-shows.”

“You’re not making my kids watch his True Blood crap,” Dean quickly warns her, and Claire laughs.

“Of course not, they’ll watch it when they’re older, you old grump,” Claire jokes. The content feeling going through Dean calms him down and makes him feel more at peace than he’s been today. A loud sigh escapes his mouth.

“They can’t wait to meet their big sister,” Dean then says after going through everything that passes through his mind. Two more kicks are added to that.

A little while later, in the war room, things have calmed down. Everybody seems to have gotten their frustrations out, and there seems to be a semi-decent plan made out. Anna and Samandriel would stay here, while the others go out. Hannah and Balthazar would go to the hospital to prepare a room, and get the rooms warded for when Dean needs to get in. The others would distract the Angels.

When Castiel realizes Dean is gone, he goes to search for him in their bedroom. When he finds both Dean and Claire lying asleep on the bed, something weird goes through his chest, and he can’t help but feel the need to shuffle close next to Dean.

It’s a tight fit, but the comfort he gets from holding his husband and Claire so close is enough to finally give him some sort of rest.

 

* * *

 

_Meanwhile_

 

All Sam can really think about it the headache.

It’s the first thing he’s really aware of, and he can’t even remembering waking up. His eyes are still closed, he’s lying on something quite hard, and there’s just an intense pain in his head.

“Autch,” is what he gets out, knowing that nobody could hear it. At least, that’s what he thinks, since he doesn’t really have any idea as to where he is.

There are some sounds around him, people grunting, somebody falling on the ground. Are there people fighting? Where is he, really?

But the idea of opening his eyes makes his headache only worse, and the slight movement in his arms makes him grunt. He’s stiff, and, probably ended up on the floor the hard way; by falling. He doesn’t remember much of it, though. Last he can think of is banishing Gabriel to Heaven and then…

Oh, right, Rowena doublecrossed him, just like Gabriel warned him would happen. Great, now he’ll never hear the end of that one.

“Sam Winchester?”

Okay, now Sam doesn’t recognize that voice, which means that he’ll _have_ to open his eyes. He tries to push himself off the ground, but instead ends up rolling around, ending up on his back with a loud groan escaping his mouth.

If only he had been in bed, still.

“Hold on,” the other person says, and when Sam feels two fingers press against his forehead, he knows he’s dealing with an Angel here. The moment the pressure in his head clears away, Sam manages to open his eyes, finding an unfamiliar face leaning in front of him.

“Who are you?” he asks as he rubs in his eyes. The painful crick in his neck from lying on the floor all the time is gone, and a soft yawn finds its way out of his mouth. The Angel stands up again and takes a step back. Then he holds out his hand to help Sam up as well. The hunter gladly takes it, appreciating the help.

“My name is Gadreel, I came here as a request from your brother, who was worried about you,” Gadreel explains. Sam takes in the guy standing in front of him. Short brown hair, a long face, wide and strong jaw. But it’s the peace his blue eyes bring out that makes Sam relax. There’s a slight scruff on his chin, and even from where Sam is standing he can see strong cheekbones.

Sam wonders who the vessel is; is he a husband of somebody? Does he have children? What did he have to give up to become this?

It takes a moment for Sam to catch up, though. The name sounds awfully familiar now that he takes it over a few times in his mind.

“Aren’t you the Angel Cas bailed out of jail?” Sam asks when it hits. Gadreel nods, turning to look around him. That’s when Sam remembers there had been some sort of fight going on while he was lying there. Immediately he makes a quick sweep of the room from where he’s standing, finding that, unsurprisingly, Rowena is gone. But there are two new additions on the ground; two bodies, each of them surrounded by marks of burned wings on the ground.

“You killed these guys?” Sam asks, stepping towards one of the bodies and finding stabbing wounds in their chests. Quietly, Sam lets out a short prayer for the vessels, hoping that they find their way into Heaven.

“It was necessary to protect you,” Gadreel says. “Azrael has called Heaven down to Earth. Every Angel is looking for your brother, and they know you’re their best chance of finding him. The fact that these two found you, means that they’re getting closer.”

Sam takes in the information. Wow, things surely did end up sour in just a matter of hours. So, clearly, sending Gabriel to Heaven wasn’t his brightest idea. Why does he always only realize this once it’s too late? His stupid impulsive brain will one day really be the death of him.

“So Azrael knows?” Sam asks. He reaches inside the Angel’s pocket and fishes out his Angel Blade. In his hand, it feels like all the others; it’s light, easy to swing with, but somehow always feeling cold to the skin.

“She took one of our own. With Naomi on her side, it was only a short amount of time needed for her to be aware of things,” Gadreel explains. Then he sighs. “It seems I am unable to bring you back to your home.”

“What do you mean?” Sam turns around in surprise.

“It was my intention to come here and get you back to your brother immediately, but somehow I can’t. Something is keeping us out.”

Sam immediately grabs for his cellphone, seeing thankfully that it survived his fall. With a few quick presses he dials Dean’s number, and then he holds the phone to his ear. The call doesn’t even go over, instead going straight to voicemail.

“I think the bunker is jamming our signals,” Sam mutters out. “Sudden Angel activity on Earth and it closes down, so it seems. I do have a key, maybe that works?”

“It could, but I cannot guarantee it. For now, your brother is safe inside when nothing can get in. We can remain here, and I’ll ward this place off.”

“Won’t that weak you down?”

“It will, but at least that way the Angels won’t find us,” Gadreel says. He flies away shortly, only to reappear with a bottle of spray paint. Sam watches as the guy starts drawing sigils on the wall. He recognizes them all; they’re the ones he keeps on getting wrong.

“So, last I heard of you, you and your partner went to live the simple life on Earth. What brought you back to the action?” Sam asks, figuring it won’t hurt to talk with him for a little bit. Gadreel doesn’t look away from his work as he starts talking.

“Abner and I were contacted by Gabriel when they needed to clear Metatron’s mind,” he starts. “Had we kept him to it, the whole of Heaven would have known about everything months ago.”

“So that’s why Anna didn’t want us to talk to him?” Sam asks, more to himself than to Gadreel. He remembers that one day in the park, where Anna revealed Azrael’s story to them. To Sam, it had seemed like simple defiance. Clearly, there’s always something bigger to it.

“Had you spoken to Metatron, and asked him about the Nephilim, we would have had to restart the whole process. It wasn’t easy to sneak Gabriel and Anna inside of Heaven without the other Angels noticing, but somehow we managed.” Gadreel stops for a moment and takes a deep breath. “To be honest, Abner never really wanted to be a part of any of this.”

“Neither did my brother, yet he’s the one dying,” Sam counters bitterly. Gadreel turns his head for a short moment. His expression seems regretful, which is the most any of the Angels have ever shown to them.

“I cannot say that I agree with my Father’s methods all the time,” Gadreel then confesses, sounding as if he shouldn’t be saying this. “To be honest, he did allow for us to be tortured in jail of years beyond counting.”

“Then why do you still follow him?”

“Because we don’t know how not to,” Gadreel answers. He doesn’t seem too happy about his own answer. “Sure, Castiel succeeded in it, and Gabriel, too, once managed to escape the grasp of our father’s will. That doesn’t mean it comes easy.”

Sam remembers how Cas had fallen in the aftermath of straying from God’s path. The not-so-quite-Angel but not-quite-human-either moment he’d had before being smitten into billion pieces by a simple snap of Sam’s own fingers. Sure, he hadn’t been the one to do it, but Sam remembers every feeling that came with Lucifer controlling him.

“How did you fall in love with Abner?” Sam suddenly asks, no clear reason as to why this question even comes to mind. He clears his throat afterwards, trying to keep his gaze away from the Angel currently busy warding this place off. There’s not much for him to do at the moment, so he just sits down on the ground and takes a few deep breaths.

“I don’t know how it happened, really,” Gadreel says with a slight smirk on his face. “I do recall the exact moment I realized his feelings for me, though.”

“When was that?” Sam asks.

“Well, it had been another uneventful day in the garden,” Gadreel explains. “Adam and Eve had been hanging around, and they’d been talking a lot, and getting closer to each other a lot. We didn’t really understand what was happening most of the time, but we kept guarding nonetheless.

“I said something to Abner, what, I can’t really recall. Abner found it funny, somehow, and started laughing at me. And when I saw his face, I recognized the way Adam looked at Eve.”

“And how did that make you feel?” Sam asks, curiously. Gadreel huffs out a short laugh and shakes his head.

“To be honest, I freaked out. From the garden, the two humans had started kissing, so when Abner leaned forward as well to copy them, I panicked and flew away from him, to the other side of the garden.”

It seems like a fond memory, but Sam just can’t imagine it. Not because of the two Angel-dudes, but mostly because he can’t even bring up an image of the beautiful garden they were supposed to guard. The paradise God had created for humans, only to snatch it away when they disobeyed.

“The day I admitted my own feelings for him must have been a few weeks afterwards. We had been walking around the garden, deciding to leave the couple to their own since they were busy mating.”

“Ehm,” Sam coughs, having forgotten the bluntness of Angels when it comes to the matters of sex.

“We had been talking, discussing a few of the stories that passed around the Host of Heaven – children’s stories, really, but they were all we had – when suddenly I looked at him and saw something in his Grace I felt like I hadn’t seen before.”

“And what was it?” Sam asks. Gadreel then lowers his hand after finishing his sigil. He passes a sleeve over his forehead to get away the drops of sweat, and he’s breathing a bit faster. That’s indication enough to know that the sigils work, since he’s obviously stripped of his power.

“I can’t really say what it was, but we’ve been together from that day since,” Gadreel admits. He lets out a long sigh and turns his face to the side. “I can’t begin to imagine what Castiel must be going through. The idea that Abner would die, it’s just… I don’t think I would survive that.”

Sam stays quiet, knowing what it’s like to lose your partner. After Jessica, it seemed as if the world stopped turning. There has been a hole in Sam’s chest that never managed to get filled again, no matter who he meets afterwards.

But he’s the one proof that it’s not the end afterwards, right? He did find love again, afterwards. Sure, Madison and Sarah weren’t exactly serious things, but Amelia and Lauren… Those two are women he can say in all honesty that he managed to fall in love with.

Nobody says anything else as the sun disappears back into the Earth and a darkness falls upon them. With his head resting against the wall, Sam falls into a short slumber, only to wake up again in what feels like quite a short time. He stretches, yawns, and wonders if he can convince Gadreel to let him make a quick run to his car to fetch his sleeping mat.

“What time is it?” Sam asks quietly, eyes dropping on the big moon hanging in the sky.

“It’s exactly midnight, July the sixth,” Gadreel answers, and a cold feeling passes over him.

“Today’s the day,” the hunter mutters. “Dean’s last day.”

And a little further away, back in the bunker, Dean Winchester wakes up with a loud scream escaping from his lips. The bedding underneath him is wet, the pains coming from his belly enough to give him tears in his eyes.

“Dean?” Castiel asks after being woken up. Claire, too, is already standing, ready to act if necessary.

“They’re coming,” is all Dean can manage before letting out another piercing scream.

 


	28. Just promise me one thing

_Rome, year 310_

_He had been so tall and strong when he descended to the Earth. Cassia hadn’t known what exactly she had expected, either, when she actually prayed to him for help. Her brother was dying. If he had died, she would have been the last remaining member of her family. They didn’t have enough, as it was, but to be a lonely single and childless woman in these days was only to ask for trouble._

_The things that awaited her, had her brother died, would be unspeakable. She had nowhere else to go no father, no uncle. Not even distant cousins. She was truly the last of her line, and if her brother was to die, she would lose all of her rights. Her life, no matter how young she is, would be over before it even started._

_But women didn’t have rights, not really. They were meant to marry the moment they hit the age of fifteen. To be older than eighteen and still be unwed would be a disgrace to the family. Her only task in life was to provide sons for her husband._

_Well, she failed miserably in that, didn’t she? Athos died even before they managed to conceive. Their marriage had been short. Before she knew it, all her rights were once again placed in the hands of her brother._

_And now Cato, too, was at the verge of dying. Cassia just didn’t know what else to do. The people on the streets had been talking, telling stories about the Angels. Those stories were forbidden; if a guard would overhear them, they would be executed by their emperor for blasphemy. Even Cassia had to admit that she didn’t really trust the Christians. They’re an underground elite of people who stopped believing in their Gods and decided to focus on one God, instead. Cassia didn’t know much about it, since she didn’t want to get in trouble._

_But she still heard stories about the Angels. There was one about Gabriel, the deliverer, Lucifer, the Morningstar who had fallen, and Azrael, the Angel of Death._

_And though she never really believed in them, at these moments, when the Gods appeared to have forsaken her, it seemed like the Angel of Death was the only one she could go to. And so she prayed for him, begged for him._

_She just didn’t really expect he would show._

_Cassia had been sitting at her brother’s bed at the time, mostly talking to herself. She had her brother’s hand in her own, pressing his fingers against her lips as she softly spoke out the words that together formed a prayer. When she heard a soft fluttering of wings behind her, she didn’t think much of it. It was probably a bird, one of those messengers. Maybe if she’d just ignore it, it would go away again._

_“Let me help you,” a soft voice spoke behind her, and Cassia jumped up in surprise, letting go of her brother’s hand. It dropped down lifelessly next to the bed, barely touching the ground. Cato let out a suffering breath, probably one of the last ones he would make._

_In front of Cassia stood one of the most magnificent beings she’d ever seen. It was a tall man with curling golden hair. His skin was darkened by the sun, and seemed to glow in the sunlight that came through the windows. His body was completely filled with muscles, strong and thick at the arms and legs. He was wearing a long white toga, and on his feet were sandals._

_“Who-?” Cassia started to ask, but she couldn’t manage to continue her words. The man in front of her just took away all the breath she had. He, in turn, looked at her with deep brown eyes. He slowly walked to her, raised his hand up, and then kneeled down next to the bed. His hand came to rest on Cato’s head, and for a moment, they were all quiet._

_Then, suddenly, Cato gasped for breath, sitting up again in his bed and reaching for his chest. Where he had trouble breathing for the whole week, now he was taking in the air again as if it was no trouble at all._

_“Cassia? What’s going on?” Cato asked, and Cassia felt the tears growing in her eyes. She took her brother’s head in her arms and pressed their foreheads together. Cato held on tight to her arms, as if he were afraid to let her go._

_When the man – no, the Angel – stood up again and started to make his leave, Cassia pulled away as well._

_“Wait!” she called out to him, holding out her hand in a stopping motion. The Angel stood still, his back facing her and his head slightly turned to indicate she had his attention. “What’s your name?”_

_Then the Angel turned around, face calm and soothing. There was no smile, but there was no clear disrespect either. There just didn’t seem to be a lot of emotions at all._

_“My name is Azrael. You prayed to me, and I came,” the Angel explained while pressing a hand against his chest to indicate himself._

_“Please don’t go,” Cassia begged of him. She walked towards him again, held his face in her hands and went to stand on the tips of her toes to find his lips with her own. Azrael made a surprised sound the moment she initiated the kiss. He didn’t return the act, so Cassia quickly pulled away again._

_“You rescued my brother. Let me give you something in return,” she offered. And with that she gently pushed him out of the room, and offered him the only thing she as woman was able to give him. There wasn’t much women could do, anyway, other than give a man healthy sons and be a source of their pleasure._

_Azrael, in turn, didn’t refuse. On the contrary, he seemed quite curious about it all. He mostly kept his hands to himself at first, and looked a bit hopeless during the act, but after a little while, he opened up. When they were finished, Azrael left again, but not before Cassia asked if he would return one day._

_“Just pray for me,” Azrael had promised, and then he had disappeared._

_Life after that seemed to continue again, then. Cato managed to marry the girl he had his eyes set on right before he got sick, and Cassia wasn’t at risk of being disgraced by men on the street for being a rightless woman._

_But when she started showing the first sings, only three weeks after Azrael left, she knew her trouble wasn’t yet over. She went to see the town’s healer, and heard the verdict. The only thing she managed to think of was to call out for Azrael and tell him the good news._

_Azrael didn’t show right away; only three days after she prayed for him did he arrive. He apologized, explained that he had been busy answering to people’s prayers. When Cassia told him the news that she was expecting, Azrael looked confused for a little while._

_He disappeared again after that, and Cassia was almost sure she would never see him again. To have a child outside of marriage was not honorable. The moment the signs would be obvious, she would be looked at in disgust as she walked in the streets. Cato, too, would be disappointed._

_But Azrael returned. He formally asked Cato for her hand in marriage, and they became an official married pair after that. But the two of them were distant. Azrael didn’t know how to act around Cassia, and Cassia, in turn, had grown tired of her advances never being reciprocated._

_The thicker her belly got, the skinnier her arms and legs ended up being. The healers were put in front of a mystery, and Azrael, too, seemed unable to heal her without hurting their unborn child. When he suggested to remove the child to get her better again, she refused. After losing her first husband without managing to have a child, and then losing her first baby, she would end up branded for life as the woman that couldn’t provide any children. No, she would see this through._

_The closer they got to the end of the pregnancy, the closer Cassia and Azrael seemed to be getting. After a while, Azrael joined Cassia in her dreams, and during the night he held her closely to his body. They started kissing occasionally, and even made love a few more times. After a while, Cassia could say in complete honesty that she loved him, and it could have been possible that he, in turn, loved her as well. But love, with Angels, was such a strange thing._

_Azrael talked to her about Heaven. He mostly spoke of his brothers and sisters, of their task to help out the humans in need and to answer prayers. Whenever Azrael heard a prayer, he had to leave, but he almost immediately always returned. It was his promise to stay with her and their unborn child for as long as was possible._

_By the time the child was to be born, Cassia had never been so skinny. The healers were afraid she wouldn’t survive the birth, but with the help of Azrael she pulled through without any trouble. And with that, they welcomed their baby daughter, Norelia._

_Azrael, who didn’t often show any emotions at all, fell instantly in love with their daughter. He wanted to hold her almost every time, and showed her off to everybody when they were walking the streets together. Norelia looked like any ordinary child according to Cassia, but Azrael explained to her that he could see she was special._

_As she grew older, Norelia started showing special abilities. She would change the color of her clothing whenever she was angry, and after growing out her wings she would start to fly all around the house. It mostly drove Cassia crazy, but Azrael found it amusing._

_Watching Azrael together with their daughter, Cassia realized she had never seem him more human than that. His pride over their girl was warming her heart. Azrael smiled more, showed more affection towards Cassia, who by then had gotten back to her normal health._

_Azrael then told her that more half-children had been born when Norelia reached the age of five. Cato’s children and Norelia played around a lot, and they didn’t care that she had inhuman powers. Still, they kept it a secret for a while._

_As Cassia grew older, so did Norelia. By the time their daughter reached the age of fifteen, Cassia was thirty-three, which was considered old in here. Still, she felt as healthy as ever, and she suspected Azrael had something to do with that._

_The trouble probably started when Norelia first decided to heal somebody. She had been walking the street, ran across a dying homeless man who wouldn’t survive another day, and she made him healthy again. Word spread fast, and before anybody knew it, all of the village wanted to have their illnesses cured by the Nephilim, which was what they started calling the offspring of an Angel and a Human. Cassia didn’t like the attention their daughter was getting, but Azrael was proud as ever._

_With the requests for healing, along came the requests for marriage. Azrael refused all of them, feeling protective over their daughter. He didn’t want her to marry just any ordinary man._

_All around the world, people went to the Nephilim to ask to be cured. Azrael explained that the prayers to Angels had diminished greatly, and a few in Heaven started to get restless about it. They decided not to worry about it since no real threat came out of it._

_But eventually, it did. Cassia, Azrael and Norelia had been at the market that day when suddenly they were ambushed by three Angels. One of them grabbed Azrael and threatened to kill him. It was then that Norelia jumped in action and killed the Angel instead with only a touch of her fingers. The other two Angels eventually fled, and they were left alone again in the market place. The humans became weary of Norelia, and didn’t ask for her healing assistance anymore._

_The day they came for her was the darkest day in Cassia’s life. Azrael had been called away by Heaven, and only returned to them early in the morning after having been away all night. He had grabbed Norelia with him, and told Cassia they had to leave, to get away from there._

_But it was too late. The Angels eventually found her as they were leaving the city. Three Angels held back Azrael, who was screaming and begging them not to do it. Cassia didn’t know what was happening, and couldn’t understand anything the Angels were saying. Norelia tried to fight away from the other Angels, but there were too many of them._

_It was too late that Cassia understood what was happening; this was an execution. They were reading her sentence, and one of them was raising his blade as three others held Norelia back by the arms. When Cassia charged in to hold them back, she was pushed away with such force that she blacked out for a while._

_When she woke up again, Azrael and the other Angels were gone, and Norelia’s body lay, lifelessly, on the ground, with a bleeding wound in her chest._

_Cassia grieved and cried over her daughter’s death and her husband’s disappearance. After burying her, she returned home, only to find out her brother had died from old age. Azrael never came back to her._

_Cassia died only a year later, homeless, beaten, used and disgraced as she was a woman of the streets. Nobody talked about her family ever again, since nobody remembered them ever being there._

_Azrael made sure of that._

* * *

 

_Present Day, Lebanon, Kansas_

Dean has thought quite often about how he would die. He has died, a few times, too. A lot of times, according to Sam, but since Dean can’t remember any of those hundred times, he can’t really count those, right?

The first time he can remember must have been the hellhounds. It’s not a moment he likes to think back on, but to be completely honest, the forty years that happened afterwards were way worse than being torn apart by a couple of mutts Hell spit back out. Though, if there’s one horrible thing he’d like to be spared from, it’s the destroying cries Sam lets out as Dean’s soul is ripped out of his body, and being dragged back into the dark pits of Hell. Dean can’t really remember the trip down, but he supposes the mutt must have been carrying him along.

But Sam, Sam had been so broken, destroyed. Being unable to see whatever was attacking Dean, no weapon against it in hands, watching how slowly but surely the skin on his brother’s body was being ripped open and blood began to spill. Dean doesn’t know what he would have done had the roles been reversed, but even the idea of watching his little brother go through that makes him want to plunge the knife in his own chest just to be spared from the sight.

The second time Dean remembers dying, he can recall the anger he had been feeling right before being shot. Right next to him, his little brother had gotten a bullet already, killed by two angry hunters who figured they were to blame for the Apocalypse.

They were right, of course, but right before biting the dust, Dean made himself a promise to get the two bastards who even thought about pressing a bullet through his brother. Of course, after returning from Heaven with the help of Joshua, killing off those two bastards had been the last thing on his mind. All the hopes Cas ever had on finding his father had been gone, they learned they were completely alone in their quest. Walt and Roy could wait until later to kick their own cans.

His memory is clear enough from when he died for the third time. The Apocalypse was over, Cas was MIA, and Dean was desperate to get his little brother back, who didn’t seem like himself. Back then, talking to Death had been all that he could come up with.

Those aren’t really the ways Dean expected he would die. If he’s completely honest, the way he’d imagined it was ending up as Wendigo-meal, or maybe getting his heart stopped by an Angry Spirit that he missed during one of his cases. He came close to it multiple times, but yet he somehow always managed to live through it.

He’s not so sure about this time, though. Even as he’s pushed back down on the bed and people are starting to shout and run all around him, it somehow feels as if his final seconds are ticking just by him. There’s no pain, though. Not right now. It comes, and then it goes, but it doesn’t stay. He just had a wave of it a few minutes ago, but he’s not sure how long he has before the next one comes.

Cas is saying something right next to his ear, but Dean doesn’t hear it. It’s more like buzzing around him. He sees the Angel’s mouth move, forming words without any sound. At least, no sound enters Dean’s ears. He blinks a few times, opening his mouth to say something but then forgetting what it was he wanted to say in the first place. He leans forward a little bit, only to be pushed back down.

Huh, he doesn’t even remember sitting up, again. A hand is pressed against his shoulder. He looks down at it, and then follows the arm attached to it to see who it belongs to. It’s a strong hand, since it has no trouble pushing him back onto the bed with his back on the mattress. It’s Anna, who apparently, too, is shouting around orders. She isn’t looking at Dean, eyes focused on Cas instead.

Cas, his beautiful husband. The light of his life. He’s standing right next to him, holding a protective stance towards him. Dean forces his hand to reach up and catch Cas by the sleeve of his shirt, and then the noise stops for a moment. That’s when Dean notices there’s a continuous buzzing sound in his ears.

“Honey, don’t forget to take the food out of the freezer or we won’t be able to eat it tonight,” Dean finds himself saying despite that not being what he wanted to pass along at all. He blinks a few time, and then takes a deep breath to try again. “I washed your clothes, but I didn’t iron them yet. I couldn’t find the time.”

Maybe he should just shut up? Cas is saying something again, but the buzzing gets louder once more. Dean’s eyes close as an intense wave of dizziness comes over him, and that’s indication enough that the next wave is coming soon.

He feels it in his chest before the pain in his belly even starts. His hands reach for the place where his heart is, pressing against his as an intense but throbbing heat passes through him there. After that, a pain in his throat comes as well, and the warmth seems to have gotten to his face instead. Oh, wait, he’s just screaming and getting out of breath. That probably isn’t from the waves.

“Dean, keep breathing!” somebody shouts, but he doesn’t know who. There are just too many people in the room, and he’d rather have them all to leave except for Cas. These are probably his last moments, and he doesn’t want to spend them interrupted by others.

“He needs to go, now!” a female voice shouts. Is that Linda? When did she get in the room? Two hands are suddenly grabbing his wrists and pushing them back down on the mattress. Dean doesn’t even remember having raised them. Or, wait, he was holding Cas by his shirt, right?

“They haven’t finished warding the room. They would let me know the moment we can get him out of here,” Anna shouts back to Linda. Dean opens his eyes again when soft fingers touch his cheek and a forehead is pressed against his own. In front of him, he sees Cas sitting on the side of the bed, very close to him.

“Please, my love, hold on for me, just keep breathing and don’t strain your voice,” Cas whispers against his skin. Dean suddenly hears him clearly enough, meaning that the buzzing in his ears must have disappeared? He finds himself nodding to whatever his husband asks of him. He wants Anna to let go of his hands so he can touch Cas’ face, stroke his hair as he promises that he’ll be fine in the end, but the Angel doesn’t let go of him at all.

“They do know he needs an operation room, right? With his heart he won’t be able to even push out the first child!” Linda calls out loudly. Anna only rolls her eyes.

“Of course, what do you think we’ve been doing all this time other than watch them?” Anna asks in annoyance. Linda just raises her hands in defeat and turns away again.

“Cas, I think I had sex with your sister,” Dean mutters out as he watches Anna still holding him. Cas frowns for a moment but then rolls his eyes as he seems to understand. Anna doesn’t respond to it at all. “I like sex with you much more.”

“Of course, Dean,” Cas says. Are there tears in his eyes? Dean can’t really see it. Cas leans forward some more and presses their lips together. That’s when the wave finally hits its peak and Dean lets out a loud scream against Cas’ mouth.

“We need to go now!” Cas shouts back to his sister. Samandriel comes back in the room with a glass of water. When Cas tries to get it down Dean’s throat, Dean chokes on it instead and hurts his throat even more as he coughs it all out.

“Okay, we’re ready to go!” Anna suddenly shouts. She releases one hand from Dean’s wrist and presses it against Cas’ shoulder instead, and then the scenery around them moves. Dean doesn’t recognize the place, since he’s never really been here before. But it looks just like any other hospital looks; clean and cold.

“What’s going on?” a male voice suddenly asks from further away. Dean turns his head to the side, noticing only then that he’s being pushed forward on a trolley.

“Female, thirty six years old with heart failures and severe underweight. She’s ready for a caesarian. Hypotension with a blood pressure of sixty over thirty. Heartrate is at 115 beats a minute.”

Dean is a bit confused because of Anna talking back at the doctor as if she’s one as well. He wants to comment on it, to make clear that she doesn’t know what she’s talking about, but then they’re on the move again.

“OR 3 isn’t ready yet,” somebody calls out from a bit further away. Dean barely recognizes Hannah and Inias. They’re both dressed in surgical uniforms. The doctor they seem to have chosen for him charges into action as well. He runs along with them and then heads back to the room they seem to be headed to.

Dean barely notices as they attach multiple devices to him. Something gets stuck on his finger, and little naps are pressed on multiple sides of his chest. All the time, Cas is standing right next to him, caressing him through his hair and pressing his forehead against Dean’s. The whole room is chaos. As Dean looks around, he sees nothing of the warding the Angels supposedly put up. He wonders if they’re hidden from view.

Hannah and Inias are performing their roles as doctors quite well, since none of the nurses or the doctor himself seem to question them. The doctor from earlier, Dean can’t see his name-tag anywhere, is pressing a stethoscope against his chest to listen to his heart and breathing, despite the thing on his finger reading his heartrate as well.

“Your heart is very weak,” the doctor mutters. “Natural birth is out of the question. How long ago has this started?”

“About an hour ago,” Cas rasps out with a thick and heavy voice. Dean notices some wetness in his husband’s eyes, and he reaches up to take his hand in his own. Cas only smiles lightly in return, but can’t seem to look him back in the eyes.

“How far along is she?” the doctor then asks, dropping a cold gel on Dean’s belly and making the ultrasound to check on the boys.

“Thirty-four weeks,” Anna answers before Cas can open his mouth. The Angel keeps on throwing worried glances behind her. So far, there’s no sign from Inias or Hannah anymore, so Dean suspects they’re back to preparing the operation room.

“The babies seem healthy, but we need to act fast still,” the Doc mutters out. He pulls away his devices again. One of the nurses walks towards them and holds out a form to Cas.

“I’m sorry, but I need you to fill in these pages, sir,” the nurse says gently, seeming genuinely bothered that she has to disturb them. Cas nods and takes over the forms, accepting the pen the nurse gives him afterwards. Cas moves to pull out a chair, but when he bumps in against a few of the nurses, he seems to make the decision to get out of their hair. After a long look at Dean, he presses one more deep kiss on his lips before getting out, leaving Dean alone with the staff.

It’s not really panic that seems to be getting the upper hand here, but rather an unpleasant feeling of worry at the idea that his husband has left the room. After all, this might be the last time they’ll see each other alive.

“Doc,” Dean gets out despite the sour throat. The doctor walks to him.

“Hi, Mrs. Winchester, I am Dr. Pine,” the doctor says. It’s nice to finally be able to put a name on the face. Dean just nods and forces out a smile, though he doesn’t really mean it.

“Dr. Pine, I wanted to say, if it becomes a matter between saving me or my boys, I want you to do everything for the boys,” Dean says. He’s waited until Cas left the room, not because he couldn’t know, but mostly to spare him of the pain a little longer. The chances of Dean surviving this are slim already. Right now, the only thing keeping him alive are the twins. The moment they’re out, his body stops healing itself just enough to live through another day. Dean’s heart will stop, his lungs will collapse, and his kidneys will probably also stop working.

“I will do everything I can to make sure the three of you make it out,” Dr. Pine promises him, but Dean shakes his head.

“No, A-Alan and Jonah come first,” Dean tries again. Dr. Pine throws him a worried look, but then nods. He pulls the monitor he used for the ultrasound back and lets Dean have a look.

“Who is Alan and who is Jonah?” he asks. He points at the kid on the left side and then to the right side of Dean’s belly.

“That’s Jonah. The other one is Alan,” Dean says, glad that the Doc cares enough to know beforehand who is who. At least that way there won’t be any mix-up afterwards. Dean doesn’t want their names switched up, even though he’ll probably never see his sons alive. It’s just a matter of principle, really. The Doc nods then and pushes the monitor away again.

“Now, for the matter of anesthesia,” Dr. Pine starts, “if you agree, we’re going to give you an intrathecal. This will be performed by an injection in your back, and it will numb you from under the ribcage down.”

Dean nods, noticing Cas returning as he seems to have noticed the Doc discussing some things here.

“To neutralize your stomach acids, we’ll give you a drink called Bicitra. It might taste a bit chalky, but we need you to drink it completely,” Dr. Pine adds. Cas drops the forms back down on the bed, only half filled so far.

“What is it for?” Cas asks where Dean is too distracted to do.

“By neutralizing your stomach acids, we reduce the chance of pneumonia in case you were to vomit during the surgery and aspirate it. It sounds horrible, I know, but it does happen sometimes. It’s just a precaution, mostly.”

Dean can only find himself nod. He’s sure this man knows his stuff better than Dean would. Maybe he should have researched the procedure beforehand, but by doing that it all seemed too real, somehow. Not that lying here in a bed with nurses and doctors parading around him and preparing him for surgery isn’t real enough for him.

“Before getting you to the operation room, we’ll give you an IV and a catheter. Now the last one might be a scary thought, but your anesthesia will have kicked in by then so you won’t feel a thing,” Dr. Pine then adds. Cas frowns for a moment.

“With a catheter, you mean…?” he starts, asking the question Dean is almost too afraid to ask.

“Basically, it’s a little tube placed through the urethra and that comes to rest in the bladder. You won’t be in control of any of your muscles downwards, so accidents might be possible to happen. This way, we will avoid it.”

“Oh,” Dean lets out, closing his eyes again and cursing this day already. This is just perfect, really. First he’s thrown out of his original body (well, figuratively), his brand-new marriage with Cas is tested on multiple occasions, and he ends up pregnant, which is something he truly _never_ could have predicted in his life. Now, apparently, since things aren’t bad enough as they are already, some nurse is going to put a _tube_ inside his freaking _pee-hole_! If Dean had the strength for it, he would have stood up and ran away.

“We’ll also give you an enema, to avoid further accidents,” Dr. Pine adds, and Dean is just about ready to hide inside his pillow. Fan-fucking-tastic.

“Am I allowed in the operation room?” Cas asks urgently while grabbing Dean’s hand in his own. He squeezes his fingers shortly, but Dean doesn’t return the gesture, feeling too hopeless at the moment. This is the moment he realizes he truly has no control over his life, anymore.

“You will be scrubbed and we’ll give you a mask. You may sit next to your wife, but you can only remain there. The moment you start to feel light-headed, you will be asked to leave,” Dr. Pine says. Then he stands up again. “Now, I’ll get the anesthesiologist here. Make sure the consent-forms are filled and bring them over to the nurses’ station.”

Dr. Pine leaves the room after that, and Cas grabs the forms again and begins to scribble things down furiously. Dean can’t find it in himself to speak. Only about half an hour ago, he was still in the bunker, practically delirious. And now here he lies, completely lucid and aware of the fact that, in an hour maybe, his life might be over.

“Dean, when is the last time you’ve eaten?” Cas asks suddenly, and Dean looks up for a moment in confusion.

“Not since noon, actually. Linda was just preparing dinner when the band of idiots arrived,” Dean mutters out. Anna, who seems to have rejoined the room, throws him a glare but doesn’t say anything about it.

“Okay, then at least they won’t have to empty your stomach, too,” Cas says in a murmur, and Dean turns his head towards his husband.

“They _what_?!” Dean almost shrieks out.

“No, they _don’t_ have to do it, Dean!” Cas returns after having heard Dean’s panic.

“They better don’t! As if it isn’t enough having a tube shoved through my- you know – and my intestines emptied by some nurse just to make sure I don’t crap myself during the surgery!”

Cas only rolls his eyes and finishes with the forms. After that he stands up again and walks to where Dean supposes is the nurses’ station. Anna is staring at him the whole time Cas is gone, and it makes Dean feel quite uncomfortable, really.

“What’s your problem?” Dean asks Anna, and the Angel then shrugs.

“Nothing, I just remember that night, in the back of your car,” Anna says with a wide smirk on her face. “Had I known that you would end up marrying my brother, I would have tried with Sam instead.”

It takes a moment for Dean to realize that she’s joking. It’s only after her smirk gets even wider that he gets it, and Dean snorts.

“Really, back then I would have said you’re way out of his league, just to tease you both,” Dean jokes back. It feels good to have a light conversation once in a while, though he is surprised it comes from Anna. Maybe she hasn’t lost too much of her humanity, which makes her easier to relate to.

“I’ve we’re completely honest, I did notice my brother’s stinging jealousy when I kissed you goodbye. I should have known he was smitten instantly,” Anna says with amusement in her eyes. That moment, Cas enters the room again, looking a bit surprised at the smiles they’re both sporting.

“What’s going on here?” he asks in uncertainty. Dean snorts once again, and instead of answering Cas, he turn back to Anna.

“Well, I can recall an equal amount of jealousy back when I told you Cas put warding on us to keep Angels away,” Dean says. Anna rolls her eyes again, but she doesn’t lose her smile. Cas just frowns even more.

“Jealousy? Is this about that one day with Uriel and Ruby?” Cas asks in confusion. Dean can’t help but laugh and then sits up in his bed.

“I need to walk around for a moment,” he says while ignoring the Angel’s question. Cas immediately jumps in action, helping Dean up with some support on his shoulders. Dean untangles the naps and cords that were attached to his chest. Surely, by now, they have read his vitals already. The nurse, who is in the room as well, helps with shutting off the machine before an alarm starts. Once Dean is back on his feet, he holds on to Cas and shrugs of his jacket.

“Here’s your operation robe, Mrs. Winchester,” another young nurse says while offering him a bundle of clothes. “I will help you with putting on one sock, and then maybe your husband can do the other one? That way you’ll know how to do it.”

Both Cas and Dean nod, and they thank the girl before she walks out of the room again to let him get dressed. Anna, too, leaves. She closes the door behind her to give them some privacy.

“How are you holding up?” Cas asks while supporting Dean, who is busy taking off his shirt. The hunter turns to give Cas an unimpressed look, but then lets out a sigh. It’s not Cas’ fault that this is happening. He’s just being his awkward self again, and there’s honestly nothing more endearing than that.

“I’m doing fine,” Dean says. He picks the robe from the bed and gives it a long look, not seeming too impressed about it. It’s the typical white piece of cloth with blue figures on it, with buttons at the sleeves to help undo it easier. The back is open, and Dean promises himself that, the moment it is on, he’ll stay in bed rather than to have everybody stare at his bare ass.

Cas helps him with it. They take off the bra – and Dean is glad that’s the last time he’ll ever have to wear that – and then they put the robe on. After removing Dean’s sweatpants, they wait with the underwear. Dean is not yet ready to lie back down. 

It’s about ten minutes later when somebody else comes walking in the room. It’s a nurse, once again, holding a package and a pair of gloves in her hands. She looks young and apologetic when she sees Dean’s surprised eyes.

“Hi, I’m Theresa and I’m going to give you your enema,” the girl says. Dean feels his face turn red from embarrassment, and next to him, Cas lets out a cough. That bastard, there’s really no support to be expected from him at all.

“Right, ehm,” Dean mutters. He points towards the bed. “I guess I should lie down again?” he asks. Theresa nods quickly.

“Best to lie down on your left side. Just take your time,” she says as she puts down all her materials on the moveable nightstand and starts scrubbing her hands. There’s nothing much more Dean can do about it, really, so he just complies right after finally removing his pants.

This is going to suck, real time.

 

* * *

 

 

_Meanwhile, Wyoming_

To say Crowley doesn’t trust his mother is only putting it lightly. As a woman who wanted to sell her own son for a goat, there’s not much love he feels towards this petite woman standing in front of him. Sure, she might look innocent with her perfectly curling red hair and her sweet smile, but Crowley has seen her true image.

In his years as a Demon, Crowley’s learned never to trust anybody. He’s teamed up with people he doesn’t trust loads of times. He worked with the Winchesters, with Cas, even with Raphael. And that’s just the beginning of summing up a few names.

When they got the call from Sam a few days ago, they had both known that Rowena going in alone was out of the question. Of course, Crowley joining in would have made them suspicious, as well. It wasn’t that much of a surprise when Rowena was put into chains by the youngest Winchester – ah, well, not for long, anyway. After that it was only a matter of waiting for the right time.

The arrival of Gabriel could have ruined things, but at least that worked out. So after Sam revealed he had the Colt behind his pants all along, it wasn’t much guessing for Crowley to know what he had to do next.

“Now, _mother_ , are you finally going to tell me what the last ingredient is to opening the gates of Hell?” Crowley asks suspiciously at his mother who is now standing in the middle of the cemetery. She has her hands put in her hips, looking around despite the darkness of the night still surrounding them. It must be about four in the morning, though, so the sun might be coming up again, soon.

“Why, my boy, one would almost say ye didn’t trust me,” Rowena says with her typical smirk. Her eyes are still closed and her hands are reaching forward, as if she’s trying to sense some sort of energy here. She’s been walking around the damn place for a while now, only taking a few stops whenever she thinks she finds something. If only Crowley _knew_ what she was after, he could have helped her…

“I never said I trusted you in the first place,” Crowley mutters, ignoring the stern look he receives in return. But Rowena doesn’t give him attention for long, quickly turning her gaze away as she once again starts walking forward.

“This is the place we have to be,” she says, marching towards what looks like a mausoleum with massive doors. Her hand is placed on it, and Crowley, for a moment, wonders if she’s going to open the door. But, in the end, he understands that’s what they’re here for in the first place. To open the door. To get back home, no matter how stinky and ungrateful that place is.

“Well when they said the gates of Hell, I didn’t _literally_ expect a door,” Crowley says, looking at it in fascination. “And you’re sure you can get it open again?”

“With the right spells and the ingredients, yes,” she says. Her hand leaves the door again and she turns around gracefully, her hair twirling in the air from the sudden movement. As an outside, one would say she would move like a ballerina. Crowley just knows it’s her being posh.

“Then let us get started,” he says, cracking his fingers and his neck and opening the bag with all the materials they brought along.

“Now I need for you to draw an incomplete pentagram with candles. Put them in place, but leave out the last one,” Rowena instructs as she fishes out her bowl in which she’s planning to put all the ingredients Crowley has been busting his ass off to get. At last, all his hard work will be rewarded. He’s going to get his throne back.

Crowley does as she says, though. He puts the little candles in place, leaving enough space in the middle to fit a few persons. Just as he’s about to put the last candle, he holds back. Nothing is more annoying than anything unfinished, but since a pentagram is supposed to keep the demons _out_ , an incomplete one probably is for the better.

“Don’t light them yet, with yer stumbling I’m almost yer going to set the grass on fire,” Rowena mutters as she puts ingredient after ingredient in the bowl. Crowley just rolls his eyes but doesn’t comment on her words, instead throwing the last candle away into the nature around them. It’s useless, anyway.

“Now what?” he asks, almost too eager to wait any longer. Rowena doesn’t look up as she chants something and throws some sand into the bowl. He had to travel to the damn Sahara to get it. The flight had been terrible, the warm weather even more. He almost got lost in the desert, too, since he had been close to kill his annoying guide who kept on trying to start a conversation. In the end, he only stabbed the guy after they found their way back to the village. Whether or not he lived is a matter outside of Crowley’s knowledge.

Rowena finishes chanting her incantation and offers him the bowl. “Scatter this in the points of the star, but make sure the left side has more than the right side,” she says. Crowley takes it from her and does as instructed, taking the combination of random crap in his hand and getting it inside the star. This ritual is almost leading to nowhere, Crowley thinks. Maybe he should have paid attention to the incantation. Meanwhile, his mother takes out another bowl and puts the rest of the ingredients she didn’t use yet in there.

Crowley hears her chant some more in Latin before the contents of the bowl bursts into flame. It goes high up in the air, but then disappears completely, leaving Rowena standing there with a massive smirk on her face. When Crowley returns with his empty bowl, he receives this new one instead.

“Now spread it around the mark, but make sure none of it gets inside,” Rowena says. She’s, once again, fishing out something from her bag, and Crowley is making his way back to the mark he’s drawn. Paying close attention to where he’s going, he gets the hot content down on the ground, managing to get nothing inside the star just like he’s instructed.

“Good, now what?” he asks bitterly, crossing his arms after throwing the bowls on the ground a little further away. Rowena’s been mysterious enough as it is.

“Now I need the last ingredient,” she says, grin wide on her face. Finally, she’s going to reveal whatever it is she’s been trying to keep quiet. Crowley had to wait long enough for it, really.

“I hope you at least thought to bring it along, otherwise this has been a huge waste of time,” he counters. Rowena rolls her eyes and walks away from the grave she’s been working on. Her hand is hidden behind her back, hiding away whatever this mysterious ingredient is.

“Of course I brought it along, son,” she says, voice high and trying to appear innocent. Crowley raises an eyebrow. Why does she keep on being this vague when he’s going to find out either way? “It’s you. It’s always been you.”

“What?” Crowley asks, confused. How can he be an ingredient? He’s not really something she can put in a bowl, really, unless she wanted his bones. At least, if it were that, she could have spared herself some time and done it way earlier.

“For the Gates of Hell to be opened again, one would need the Demon used to close them in the first place,” Rowena clarifies. Crowley nods, clapping his hands together once and then crossing his fingers.

“Right, what can I do, then?” He wants this over with. He wants his throne back, his power, his immorality. Aging up sucks. And to imagine, had he died before this, they would never have been able to open Hell again? It’s good they worked on this quickly.

“You can stand in the middle of the symbol and wait until I stab this knife in yer chest and use yer blood to draw the key on the door,” Rowena says as if it isn’t a big deal. Crowley’s eyes open wide, his mouth drops in surprise. Did he just hear her correctly?

“Wait, what?”

Rowena moves her hand from behind her back and shows him the knife she’s talking about.

“After drawing the symbol, of course, I just need to put the Colt back in and the Gates will be opened,” she continues with a big smile on her face. Then her eyes meet his again, and once again Crowley is reminded of what kind of wicked witch his mother really is.

“That wasn’t the deal,” Crowley mutters, hating whenever a deal isn’t followed through. “You said I was going to end up back on the throne! That was what we’d agreed on!” Crowley hates how his voice trembles, but he realizes quickly enough that, without his demon powers, he’s pretty much defenseless. There’s no way he can win from such a powerful witch like his mother.

“And you will, once your soul is tortured back into a demon. And you can be sure you’ll end up in Hell, since you’re the one who helped opening it again,” Rowena says, giving the knife a long look. Then she turns her head back to him, smile even wider if that’s possible. “You’ll work your way back to the top, and be King of Hell once again.”

No, no way. This is ridiculous. She told him he was going to be King again, but not that he would have to work for it! And to undergo more years of torture after all the years he’d had when he first became a demon. He knows there are a few down there that want his head. What’s to say he’ll ever be allowed off that rack?

“I can’t let you do this,” Crowley says. An outsider would think he had a change of heart, that he would not want to see the world get back into such darkness, but he knows his true purpose. The aspect of becoming a demon again sounds just terrific, but the idea that he has to die for it. No thanks.

“I’m afraid you have no choice, son. I only want what’s best for you, after all.” Rowena holds out her hand and before Crowley realizes it, her fingers are pressed on his forehead and she’s speaking out another quiet Latin sentence.

And that’s when his body drops to the ground, despite him being completely awake. When Crowley tries to move, he finds that his limbs aren’t working along. She’s paralyzed him.

There’s no way for him to get out of this.

 

* * *

 

 

_Mercy Hospital Lebanon  
Lebanon, Kansas_

Dean can’t really say he’s feeling at his best right now. As if having to clear out his intestines wasn’t bad enough, the fact that the nurse just left to give him a thorough shave is enough to make him want to press his face in the pillow. And no, not a shave as in his face, but literally down under. The nurse has been professional about it, which is great enough for Dean, but just the idea makes him feel uneasy.

The girl had offered for Cas to do it instead, but both Dean and Cas refused. That might be just a bit too much on the wrong side of weird, really, and neither of them felt comfortable with it. It didn’t take long for the girl, though, and in just ten minutes she was out again, and Cas is invited back inside.

“I hate that this is the last thing you’ll remember of me; a random stranger having to shave me in between my legs,” Dean mutters, standing up again with Cas’ help. They discard the pants for now, but with Dean wearing underwear he’s at least not completely naked. Cas keeps his hand under Dean’s elbow to support him, and they walk around a bit in the room.

Dean is instructed not to get outside since only this room is warded for now. He knows they’re working on the operation room still, but wonders if they’ll do the rest as well. As it may be, Dean still has to travel through the hallways to get from one room to the other.

“How are you feeling, Dean?” Cas asks with another hand pressed on his lower back. Dean leans against him, not unhappy about the touch at all.

“Like crap,” Dean answers truthfully. “As if it wasn’t enough they had to make sure I don’t crap myself during the surgery, they’re also going to make sure I don’t wet myself, either. Just imagine having a tube go down your dick and think about how I’m feeling.” Dean doesn’t mean to snap at his husband, but he can’t help himself right now. It’s a stupid question to begin with.

“I’m sorry,” Cas answers quietly, lowering his head in resignation. Dean only lets out a sigh and turns around again, facing Cas and looking into his sad eyes. His thin hand finds its way onto Cas’ cheeks, and his fingers slowly caress his skin.

“No, I’m sorry,” Dean counters. He bites his lips for a moment before letting out a deep breath. “You tried so hard, Cas, but you’re still going to lose me. I wish I could have spared you that pain.”

It doesn’t take long for Cas to start tearing up at that. A quiet sob easily escapes from his mouth, and Dean takes a deep breath as he rubs away the rolling drop.

“It’s going to be tough on you for a while, especially with these two little brats. But you have Sam, and Linda, and Kevin. And I’m sure Jodie will be glad to help as well. There are so many people there for you, and you won’t see it at first, but you have to believe it.”

Cas is now actually crying, eyes red from the tears and lips pressed together in a thin line. His sobs make his shoulders shake, and then he shakes his head.

“I don’t know how I’m going to do this without you, Dean,” Cas admits, voice cracking in a way that Dean has never heard before. The hunter feels his own eyes stinging at the emotion his husband is showing. He doesn’t like Cas being in such pain. “You are the one thing that made me human, the only person I’ll ever love. And I know we’ll see each other again in Heaven, but how am I going to be a father without you by my side?”

“You’re going to be a father because our boys need you to be,” Dean answers calmly. Cas lowers his head once more and then shakes his head. He inhales in between his sobs, unable to keep the tears away.

Just as he opens his mouth to say anything else, a loud noise comes up from outside their room. Both Dean and Cas look up in the direction from where the noise originated from. There’s a shout, some smashing noises, and then they see Anna’s red hair as she comes to stand in front of the room. She can’t get in anymore, not after she walked out to prepare the operation room. No Angel can’t get in; even if Cas would leave as well, he wouldn’t be able to return since Anna made the warding definite after making sure that Cas wouldn’t have to get out.

“What’s going on?” Dean asks, almost pushing Cas away in his haste to get to the door. There’s a little window that makes them able to see what’s happening out there, but he can barely see anything. Cas, who was quietly walked towards him, ends up being tall enough to take a look.

“The other Angels are here,” Cas says with a twitch of fear apparent in his voice. Dean can almost curse; of course they would eventually find them. Angels are resourceful when it comes to matters like these.

“How many?” Dean asks, trying to stand on his toes but still unable to see anything. He hates being so much smaller right now.

“About five at first, but it seems like Inias got one of them already,” Cas explains as he watches it all. “Anna is fighting one off, Inias is moving to the next one. It looks like Abner has two on his back, but he manages to hold them off for now.”

This sucks, because if they were to lose, eventually Dean would have to leave the room to prepare for the surgery. That would mean that Cas and him are unprotected as they’re being transferred, and surely Cas might end up getting hurt from a battle against his brothers and sisters.

“Anna knocked the Angel down, she stabs him in the chest and moves to help Abner,” Cas continues. Dean nods, but then he starts to feel something more in his belly. Right, great, these contractions come and go as they please. Dean lets out a soft groan from the pain, and leans forward a little bit. Cas immediately reacts to it, though, hovering over Dean with his hands everywhere to support him.

“Are you alright?” Cas asks. Dean nods, fully aware that he’s lying again without any reason; it’s not as if Cas can’t see that he’s not fine. “Lie back down, Dean, I’ll tell you what’s happening.”

Dean complies, moving back to his bed while gritting on his teeth. Had anybody asked him one year ago how he expected his life to be at this point, this wouldn’t be it. The pain is bad enough as it is, right now – he knows he’s been through much worse, but right now his body can’t take more than this anymore.

“Tell me what’s going on!” Dean breathes out with trouble, voice tight and lips shaking.

“Uh- one of the Angels is pushing Abner back. Anna and Inias are still fighting, but they seem to be winning,” Cas says. Dean nods, tears are starting to form in his eyes. His hands are balled into fists as he tries to bite through the pain that’s passing him.

“Hghn,” Dean lets out before gasping out for breath. Cas obviously wants to turn to him, to make sure he’s alright, but Dean quickly shakes his head the moment Cas makes a move. “Tell me!”

“Inias is pushed back, but he still has his weapon. Anna evades another blow. I can see Samandriel in the back with somebody by his side. It looks like another doctor,” Cas continues, head once in a while turning back to his husband lying in the bed and making painful noises. “Abner-“

He stops talking.

“What?”

“Abner lost his blade, and he’s too far away to get it back,” Cas mutters out. Then he turns his head a bit to the side. “Samandriel takes the Doctor with him and are headed this way.”

“Okay,” Dean breathes out. His heart is going nuts, and the pressure he’s putting on his head surely can’t be good for him. Before he knows it, he might end up with a stroke before the boys can get out. Wouldn’t that be ironic?

When the door opens and the Doctor and another nurse get inside – without Samandriel – the man looks shaken for a moment. He takes a quick look at Cas who keeps his position at the door, but then seems to realize that there’s a much-suffering person lying on the hospital bed. He quickly grabs his cart along and moves towards the bed, cleaning his hands. The strong smell of antiseptic alcohol fills Dean’s nose.

“Hello Mrs. Winchester, I’m Dr. Jones, the anesthesiologist. I’m here to give you your anesthesia if that’s alright with you?” the man says, voice shaking a bit. Dean can understand the man is a bit nervous because of the commotion, but that’s really something he doesn’t need right now.

“You won’t see me complaining,” Dean gets out through his gritted teeth, letting out another small groan.

“We’ll bring you to the operation room first, and after that the anesthesia will be administered. But first we need to wait until the commotion outside has stopped.”

“Right, things are crazy out there,” Dean returns. He moves his head to the side again. “Cas?”

But the Angel doesn’t answer, instead looking outside with his mouth dropped open. That can’t be good, really.

“What’s going on?” Dean asks, realizing immediately that something happened. Cas turns around, face looking pale and shocked. “Babe?”

“Abner-“ Cas starts, but then his voice shakes again. “Abner’s dead.”

And a little further away, in an abandoned warehouse, Sam is almost startled to death when Gadreel lets out a heartbroken howl. Where the Angel had been mid-conversation with the hunter in front of him – since they didn’t have much else to do – suddenly he had stopped, dropped down to his knees, and started screaming as if he had lost everything he’s ever cared about.

 

* * *

 

 

_Somewhere on an unknown location_

Gabriel takes a deep breath. His hands are balled into fists, and his eyes are closed as he allows the light summer breeze to caress the skin on his borrowed face. He knows now that it won’t be long anymore before he’ll get his own, trusted body back, but that’s only if he manages to survive this shit first.

He stopped hiding himself the moment he got here, knowing he’s an easy target like this. Angels can find him without difficulty, but it seems like the ones that have decide to keep their distance, which is absolutely fine by Gabriel, since he doesn’t have to make his hands dirty like this.

“Gabriel,” comes after a while. The Archangel wonders how long he’s been standing here before she managed to find him. It must have been a few hours, already, since he’s been here the moment he left the bunker.

“Azrael,” Gabriel says, opening his eyes and seeing the Angel in front of him. “My, you look horrible. Filled with doubt, somehow. It’s written all over your face.”

Azrael looks completely different, despite appearing the same. There’s not much left of her self-confidence. That air of pride she had around her somehow vanished almost completely. Before him stands an Angel who is questioning her decisions. An Angel who is in constant battle with herself.

“You don’t know anything,” Azrael bites back at her. She turns her head around in a circling motion, loosening something in her neck. It would surprise Gabriel if she would actually be in pain, but seeing the way she’s losing it completely here, it might actually make sense.

“Actually, I know a lot of things,” Gabriel returns, cleaning his nails with his blade as if it’s not a deadly weapon. “I know where babies come from, I know the true meaning of life, and I know that you’re losing no matter what you’ll try.”

Azrael literally growls, raising her own blade with an unsteady hand. Her fingers are white from the strong hold she’s giving it. She looks absolutely pathetic.

“Just admit it, Azrael, your grief has finally caught up with you, and now you’re just too proud to admit your defeat.”

“Shut up!” Azrael shouts, running towards Gabriel with her blade at the ready. Gabriel’s faster, though, and without any effort he takes a step to the side.

“I must say, it comes _very_ late,” Gabriel continues as if she hadn’t interrupted him. “How long has she been dead? And your wife? I mean, you _were_ married, weren’t you?” She plunges forward again, and Gabriel pushes her aside with his arm. She’s no match for him, being only an Angel. Gabriel is stronger, and not to be killed with just a mere Angel blade.

“The actions of my past self are of no matter to the present,” Azrael gets out while breathing heavily. She doesn’t charge anymore, but straightens herself up again. Man, she’s trying really hard to hide away how much she’s losing it.

“You’re actually some sort of hypocrite, aren’t you?” Gabriel asks, pointing his blade at her with no intention to attack her with it – for now. “You get the girl pregnant, then you marry her. And then, when your brother comes to you with the news that _he’s_ getting married, you banish him from Heaven for such a non-angely thing.”

“One must learn from their mistake, I would say,” Azrael answers calmly, having clearly a better control of herself. Gabriel lets out another laugh and turns his back to her. He knows he’s making himself vulnerable like this, but he just can’t help messing with her.

 

 

“Yes, my mistake was not tying Sam Winchester up before he banished me back upstairs,” Gabriel says while shrugging. “At least now I know where I went wrong, and I’ll do better next time.”

“As if you have a next time,” Azrael counters with a low voice, sounding dangerous again. It’s like there’s a completely different Azrael standing behind him. There’s not much left of her insanity from earlier. Gabriel frowns as he turns around, needing to see her again with his own two eyes.

And indeed, all the doubt and hesitation seems to have left Azrael again, and now instead there’s a self-assured Angel standing in front of him. She looks like a complete different person.

“My, you have completely fallen off the wagon,” Gabriel mutters, understanding a little bit of what is happening. “Which Azrael am I speaking to? The crazy one? Or the proud one?”

Azrael bares her teeth and draws her blade once more, holding it up in a threatening way but not charging towards him.

“I am the only Azrael there is,” the Angel counters bitterly. Then she lifts up her head, chin raised up high. “The only one that matters, anyway. I was the only one needed to keep Heaven in peace.”

“Yeah, well, I would prefer to talk to the Azrael that cares that his daughter and wife are dead, you think that’s possible?”

Azrael ignores him, instead charging forward again and barely missing Gabriel. Her blade cuts his arm when he tries to push her away, and with a hiss Gabriel pulls back. When he checks the damage, he sees the drops of blood already dripping down on the floor.

“ _He_ won’t ever come back, I’m afraid,” Azrael mutters out, swinging the blade again and cutting another straight line in Gabriel’s arm. Why is he always taken by surprise, right now? “You just want the throne, that’s all! You don’t care about the Prophecy, you’re just jealous!”

Right, Gabriel thinks to himself, now she completely lost it. The last thing he possibly wants is to become a leader in the eyes of his brothers and sisters. Somehow, she seems to have the idea that’s all he wants from her. If he can’t reason with her, he needs to take her down once and for all. He wonders how it took him this long to see what has become of the once-so-kind Angel? The father of the first Nephilim ever born. The first Angel to ever get married. He hadn’t been there when Norelia died, had already left the host in his rebellion.

“I’m sorry this all happened to you, brother,” Gabriel almost whispers, and as he draws out his blade as well, the two charge forward, ready to strike their blow.

 

* * *

 

 

_Mercy Hospital Lebanon  
Lebanon, Kansas_

Before he’s fully aware of it, Sam realizes he’s no longer in the abandoned warehouse. Where the room had been dark and chilly at first, the place he finds himself in now is warm and bright, despite the commotion that seems to be happening around him.

He recognizes a hospital instantly. He’s been in enough of them to make the connection right away, mostly visiting people he’s trying to interview rather than having to stay in there, himself.

“Gadreel?” Sam asks, remembering how the Angel had made such a horrifying sound before zapping them out of there. Sam is completely disoriented. Yes, he is in a hospital, but that doesn’t say much. Are they still in Lebanon? Or are they somewhere else? Just as Sam is about to ask, a body drops down on the ground right next to where he’s seated. What the hell?

“Sam?” Anna’s familiar voice asks as she’s leaning over the lifeless body, pulling her blade out of it. She holds out her hand for Sam to take, and she helps him back up. “You should go to your brother’s room. It’s not safe out here.”

“I was with Gadreel, where is he?” Sam asks, looking around and finding the Angel in question before Anna can answer him. There he is, kneeling down on the floor as he holds another body in his arms. He’s crying, still, the howl tugging at his heart when he understands the scenario.

 

 

The body on the ground must be Abner, the Angel he had been talking about earlier. If he’s lying there, that must mean that he didn’t make it. Sam can’t ever possibly hope to understand how this ancient Angel must be feeling right now, losing the one thing he loved from the beginning of time.

Abner is lifeless, eyes closed and his wings burned down on the ground. Gadreel takes him into his arms, pressing their foreheads together as his tears drop down on Abner’s face. This must be about the most emotion Sam has ever seen on another Angel’s face aside from Cas.

And, Sam comes to realize, the only reason Abner died is because Sam screwed up.

Had he not banished Gabriel to Heaven, Heaven wouldn’t have known of their return. They would never have known about the Prophecy, and Abner wouldn’t have been dead because of Sam’s hopeless attempt to keep his brother alive.

Anna is shielding him away from another Angel; that much Sam can understand. She’s standing right in front of him, blade raised up and ready to use. The Angel who is nearing them is quickly pushed away again, and then Anna’s gone, getting herself back into the battle that’s shaking the whole room.

Sam, despite the fighting going on around him, can’t keep his eyes off the pair on the floor. Gadreel, kneeling on the ground as he drops tears onto Abner’s borrowed face. Hurting probably more than he ever has in his life, which means something since he’s been tortured most of it.

Abner, lifeless with scorched wing-marks on the floor, unmoving despite the shaking coming from his lover. Sam realizes, suddenly, this is the sight he will see when Dean dies as well. This is how Cas will look once Dean leaves the world of the living.

It’s a look he doesn’t wish onto his best friend.

“Sam, get into the room!” a voice calls out, and Sam looks up. He sees Samandriel stand next to a door, pointing towards said room with quick and urgent motions. Sam pushes himself from the ground, having never gotten up after getting here.

For a moment he wonders if he will even make it to the Angel, but despite the bloodbath around him, Sam manages to get himself to the other side of the room. It seems as if the other Angels don’t even notice him.

“Dean and Castiel are inside, they’re preparing to move him. After that he’ll be brought to the operation room where he’ll be getting his anesthesia,” Samandriel says, pointing once more towards the room. He doesn’t step inside, though, keeping a safe enough distance from it.

“Okay,” Sam says, moving forward again. He barely hears the door shut behind him, seeing how Dean is lying in his bed, with a doctor nervously standing next to him. He’s wearing some sort of hair-cap, and he’s already into operation-scrubs. Cas is seated on the side of the bed, holding Dean’s hand, and wearing protective clothes as well. Sam can see the uneasiness on his brother’s face, meaning that it’s not really the most pleasant feeling he’s having right now.

“Sam,” Cas says all of the sudden, having noticed the younger hunter entering almost immediately. Dean looks up a bit, eyes widening in surprise as he sees his brother standing in front of the door. Sam wants to say something, but he doesn’t’ really know how to.

“I-“ Sam begins at last, but he stops almost immediately again. Then he scrapes his throat, and takes another step forward. Would his brother be angry? Would he be disappointed? Sam practically started a war between Angels in just a matter of seconds, simply by banishing an Archangel. All for a cause he should have known was too good to be true. Of course Rowena would never have helped him. All she wanted was the Colt, and she played him right into showing it to her.

“Get your ass here, these contractions are killing me and Cas’ hand is almost broken,” Dean mutters out, releasing his husband’s hand and holding out his own for Sam to take. Cas takes a relieved step back and loosens his muscles again.

Sam complies, allowing for Dean to grab onto his fingers and squeezing them so hard Sam is almost surprised Cas managed for however long he’s stood there. Dean lets out a soft chuckle but then takes in a deep breath when the doctor walks back to the door.

“I don’t understand what’s going on?” the man mutters out. Sam wonders if they should be honest with him, but figures it’s best not to freak him out more. As it turns out, Cas doesn’t really think the same way.

“It’s Heaven, they’re angry because the twins are Nephilim, and they plan to kill them,” Cas mutters out, coming to stand next to the doctor to take a look outside, again.

“What?” the guy asks in confusion with his eyebrows raised. Sam can almost slap his own forehead, wishing Cas would just stop talking.

“It’s a Prophecy-thing,” Cas continues, not noticing the guy’s apparent distress. “My father is stepping down and one of the two boys will take his place. The Angels don’t seem to be all-too-happy to have the offspring of an Angel and a human ruling over life.”

The doctor stares at the Angel with his mouth fallen open, eyes wide and breath seemingly halted. When Cas turns his face, he does notice it, frowning as well and clearly wondering what he said wrong. He opens his mouth a few more times to say something, but stops himself every time.

“You just don’t make sense at all,” the doctor mutters out, looking back outside. “Oh my God, they’re actually killing them.”

“That’s because they want to kill the twins,” Cas clarifies. Then he shuts up again, casting a long look at Dean, who lets out a long sigh. “I mourn the brothers and sisters I lost in Azrael’s fury.”

Sam understands he’s talking about Abner. So he saw him lying on the ground. Gadreel is probably still by his side, holding on to him and crying out in the heartbreak he’s feeling over losing his only beloved. Something uneasy clenches inside of Sam’s chest, and he doesn’t know if it’s fright, sadness, or just plain guilt. Probably the three combined.

Dean doesn’t say anything at all, which Sam can understand. What is there left to say? Abner is dead, Gadreel is probably ruined for life. Angels will be hunting the twins for the rest of their lives. Dean is going to die. There’s nothing more to say that will make this situation better.

“That redhead is motioning at us,” the doctor says, and Cas hurries back to the little window.

“She says we can move,” Cas explains, and everybody immediately jumps into action. Sam gets up from the bed, and the nurse, who has been awfully silent the entire time, hurries to the other side and loosens the breaks. Everybody comes to stand on a side, pushing forward while Cas quickly reaches for the doorhandle to let them through.

The moment they’re outside of the room, Sam casts a long look around him, finding all the bodies of dead Angels lying on the floor. Somehow it’s surprising that Anna and Samandriel managed to hold off this many. Apparently, they had been sending reinforcements for a little while.

“Hurry to the room! Hannah will finish warding it once Cas is inside,” Anna instructs them. Sam nods, pushing forward but not knowing where he needs to go so instead following the doctor and the nurse.

It feels like an hour until they reach the room. They had to get to an elevator first, which is horrible enough with the idea that they’re extremely vulnerable here. After that, there were a few more hallways to go. After passing a red line, the nurse steps away from the bed and holds out her arms towards Sam.

“I’m sorry, we can only allow the husband inside,” she says. Sam hesitates before letting go of the bed. Then he hurries to Dean’s side again, taking his brother’s hands in his own and squeezing them as hard as he can.

“Dean,” he starts, but he can’t continue as something wells up in his throat. Something tickles on his cheek, and after a few second he realizes it’s his tears.

“Come on, Sammy, we’ve done this before, haven’t we?” Dean says, trying to joke about it but ending up with red eyes, himself. “One would say it would hurt less each time?”

“Shut up, jerk,” Sam says while letting out a sob and a laugh at the same time. Then he feels his brother wrapping his arms around him, holding him in a tight hug that neither of them are willing to let go of so soon. Both of them sniff loudly as the tears run freely, hearts beating faster and chest aching from the pain.

“Take care of them for me, please?” Dean asks in a whisper against his ear, probably making sure that Cas doesn’t hear it. “Cas and the twins, they’ll need you.”

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Sam answers instead, biting through his tears. “I tried to make sure you’d survive, but I failed, and I made such a mess out of it.”

Dean shakes his head and pulls away again, resting his head on the pillow and offering his brother a sad smile, hand coming to rest on his arm instead.

“We’ve all screwed up before,” Dean offers gently. “The only thing that matters is that you make things right again.”

Sam nods again, wiping his tears away.

“Just promise me one thing,” Dean quickly adds, motioning for the nurse to hold a little longer. Cas is still standing at the other side of the bed, having turned his face away to give the two the privacy they need.

“Anything,” Sam responds. Dean takes a deep breath, squeezes his eyes shut and then exhales loudly.

“Promise me the boys will never hunt in all their lives. Just promise me that, please.”

And as Sam nods, the bed moves forward again after a warning from the nurse that they can’t wait any longer. As Dean gets further away from him, their hands lose contact again, and as he sees his brother disappear through the door, he realizes that this will be the last time he saw his brother alive.

And when he returns to the room they were in before, he cries until his eyes are sore, and then he cries some more, already mourning his lost brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now before anyone mentions that the symptoms for Azrael doesn't really match any of the diseases of the mind there are, let me just say that Azrael is an Angel. She's an Angel that went mad almost two-thousand years ago, and has been that way up until now. Gabriel understands humanity a bit better than the other Angels, and he realizes there's something wrong, but even he can't say what exactly. Let's just say that Azrael has had a psychosis for years, and while it has been stable up until now, the shell is about to crack at last.
> 
> I've done quite a lot of research on C-cections and the different types of anesthesia, but it's possible I've missed a few things. Also, I have to add that I'm a nurse in education, so I'm not really bothered about things like catheters or enema's since I have to give those to people as well. Still, as I understand not everybody might be so comfortable with it, I decided to mention it rather than type it out fully.  
> Let me know what you think!


	29. I can't even hold them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings at the end of the chapter, in case anybody just wants to be sure.

_Men of Letters HQ  
Lebanon, Kansas_

Kevin quickly comes to understand that being a Prophet is one big rollercoaster on its own. Where at first his only task had been to translate tablets, apparently God himself seems to think that that isn’t enough.

He wakes up that night with fresh images burned in his mind. They’re so clear, and they won’t go away no matter how long Kevin tries to ignore them. He eats breakfast with the memory of an Angel holding the body of another dead one in his arms, crying out long tears of sadness and hurt. Kevin has never met these two Angels before, but still he knows everything he needs to know about them.

Somehow it feels as if he’s the one that made them up; that he gave them their story, their life. He knows they are called Gadreel and Abner, knows they were tasked to guard the garden, but they were tricked by Lucifer. He knows this information’s correct, as well, since he heard Cas talk about them once.

After barely succeeding at finishing breakfast, Kevin heads to the showers to get himself cleaned up. The whole bunker is quiet, all of them patiently waiting for news on Dean and the boys. There’s no way for them to contact the others. All they can do is wait for the lockdown to be over, and then get to the hospital themselves.

As he lets the hot water stream down his body, his mind lingers to one of the most troubling images he’s seen that night. He can’t really say which room it was, but it seemed cold and empty, aside from two persons in the room. Dean and Castiel. Only, Dean was lying on a metal bed, and Cas was standing next to him, staring at his husband’s lifeless body.

Kevin will never forget the broken look Cas had been showing there. It looked as if all life had been sucked from Cas, almost looking as lifeless as Dean, who had his eyes closed and face stuck in a peaceful expression. In the vision – because he figures that’s what it is – he can see Sam getting inside the room, crying it out as he sees his brother lying there. There was no sound, luckily. Kevin knows that the screams he would have heard that night would otherwise have followed him forever.

Once he gets out of the shower, he already feels exhausted, despite not having done anything, yet. He catches Claire sitting in front of the TV, going through all the channels but not getting anything on the screen. Kevin offers her to take his PlayStation and play a game. Claire just shakes her head and explains that she’s going to read up a bit in the library.

Kevin talks a bit with his mother when he finds her, but it seems like nobody, really, is up to having a conversation. None of them could have come along to the hospital without it becoming too crowded. Lauren, apparently, took that really bad, yesterday. She’s probably still at the shooting range, killing off some of the practice targets with one of the guns she must have found in the armory.

“Do you think it’ll be alright?” Claire asks when they’re eating lunch. Kevin looks up, opening his mouth but not finding anything to say in return right away. He drops down his fork and takes a deep breath.

“Well…” he starts.

 

* * *

 

 

_A few hours earlier, Wyoming_

 

Crowley isn’t really sure what happened when he regains his consciousness. Despite his awareness of things, he quickly comes to the realization that he can’t see a thing. Though, the heat around him and the whistling of the birds is indication enough for him to understand that it’s still day, meaning that he’s blindfolded.

He tries to move around a little bit, but he finds that it hurts all over his body when he tries that. His muscles don’t want to work along at all. His lungs seem to disagree, making him out of breath before he can even turn his head around.

“That bitch,” Crowley mutters quietly, knowing that, since Rowena was the last person he remembers talking to, she must have been the one who brought him in this position. After all, she is the one planning on sacrificing him in front of the gates.

“Why, son, would you call your own mother that?” Rowena’s voice calls next to him, standing dangerously close. Crowley realizes he might have just woken up only to die immediately. He’d rather have been asleep if he has to die anyway… again.

“Oh I’m sorry, you prefer whore?” Crowley retorts bitterly. It doesn’t take long for him to figure out that his hands and feet are bound. At least she didn’t gag him. If she’s going to kill him, he’s at least glad he can annoy her to death with his talking. She always did think he could never keep his mouth shut back when he was a kid.

“Fergus!” Rowena gasps out in fake shock. Crowley wants to roll his eyes, but he finds out quickly that it doesn’t matter anyway because of the blindfold. “That is not how I raised you, son.”

“That’s because you didn’t raise me at all,” Crowley corrects her. “You just left me, which, now I think of it, might actually have been an improvement in my life. I think I prefer the time when I thought you were dead.”

Rowena clicks her tongue together. There’s some noise around him, pots clinging together, a jar being opened.

“As if you’ve been such a better parent,” Rowena starts. “My poor grandchild, beaten and ignored by his own drunk of a father, who afterwards just died on sea. You never even grieved for him, did you?”

“Like you care,” Crowley spits out. “Boy was an accident, anyway. Had his mother not died after the birth, I would never even have seen him again.”

Rowena doesn’t answer to that anymore. It annoys Crowley that he can’t see a thing. He tests his body once more, trying to lift his arm. It hurts only a little bit less, but still enough to make him stop his movements. A deep breath escapes from his mouth.

“So this is how it’s going to be? A mother, murdering her son?” Crowley tries, hating the silence. When she talks he can at least say where she is and how close she is. “You do realize that, when I make it back on Earth, the first person on my list will be you?”

“It doesn’t come as a surprise,” Rowena says simply. Crowley hears some noise on the ground; something’s thrown on it. When a finger touches his forehead, he flinches. Something cold is put onto his skin in a drawing. Crowley tries to follow the movements, but he can’t place the symbol. “But I know I’m not afraid of you,” she then adds after pulling her hand back. Crowley doesn’t need to see to know that she’s smiling again.

“Believe me, nobody in the history of torture’s been tortured like the torture you’ll be tortured with,” Crowley bites quickly, miraculously not slipping over his own words.

“My, Fergus, such big words,” Rowena jokes, dismissing his threat once again. Right, Rowena has this endless patience that he could never pierce through no matter how hard he tried. He’s probably not even buying himself time.

“Why are you waiting?” Crowley asks instead of snapping something back. He knows she’s stalling for some reason.

“Because it’s not yet time,” Rowena says like it’s the most obvious reason in the world. Crowley throws his head back in annoyance, letting out a painful grunt when it hurts instead. He can’t worry about it too much; there are more pressing things than hurting muscles.

“And when _is_ it time?” Crowley says in a high tone and an accent to copy his mother’s ridiculous tone.

“All in good time, my boy,” Rowena responds without seeming even the least bit insulted.

And as it turns out, indeed all Crowley can do is just wait.

_Oh, Castiel, Gabriel, whoever there is still left that is willing to listen, don’t let my mother do this._

Little does he know, no angel seems to be hearing him.

 

* * *

 

 

_Meanwhile Mercy Hospital Lebanon  
Lebanon, Kansas_

Castiel can’t help but worry as they roll his husband away, watching him being pushed through the door and seeing it close behind him. Another nurse is standing next to him, pointing towards the side, to another door.

“We’ll need you to get scrubbed, sir,” the nurse says, and Castiel nods. He isn’t allowed inside, right now, since they’re giving him the anesthesia and the catheter. After they finish prepping Dean for the surgery, he will be brought inside to join his husband, who is now completely alone in the room with a bunch of strangers hovering around him.

He wonders how Sam is doing, feeling a bit guilty that he’s allowed inside but Sam not. It somehow feels as if he’s taken something from his brother-in-law, and he hopes Sam won’t hold it against him.

“Are these your first?” the nurse asks casually, obviously trying to calm Castiel down. The Angel takes a look at his hands, finding he’s been scrubbing them like a madman. His fingers are red and stinging. Quickly, he lets go of the soap, and he washes it off with water before accepting the paper towels he receives from the nurse.

“Yes, they are,” Castiel answers truthfully. The nurse – Karen is written on her nametag – smiles at him and looks so genuinely happy for him. Castiel figures she would be, since she doesn’t know what is going to come afterwards. But he figures Dr. Pine has realized it as well, having taken a good look at Dean’s vitals and making the math. Dean is too skinny, too weak to go through this unscathed.

“What are you planning on naming them?” she asks in interest. Castiel takes a deep breath, willing himself to remain calm. This woman can’t help anything that’s happening here. She’s just doing her job.

“Alan and Jonah,” Castiel then answers, trying for a smile but barely succeeding.

“Those are beautiful names,” Karen says as she throws away her paper towels, coming to stand at the door and waiting for a sign that they can get in. After a short look, she turns back towards Castiel, keeping her face-mask down instead of putting it on already. “When we get inside, your wife will be lying on the table. She will be shielded away from the sight of the procedure, and we must ask for you not to look over the sheet as well. The procedure is sterile, and we can’t risk contamination, so please stay at her side and stay there.”

Castiel nods in understanding. He takes a deep breath, and wonders how long he’s been standing here now. It can’t be more than ten minutes, right?

When another nurse walks inside to get washed up, too, the two of them look up.

“The anesthesia is done, so you can go. She might need you as they place the catheter,” the man says while drying his hands and reaching for a face mask. Castiel nods again. Karen opens up the door for him, making sure that he doesn’t dirty his hands again. A few of the nurses offer him gloves as he gets inside the room, and with their assistance he puts them on. When he turns around to check on Karen, the woman is already finished and making her way behind the sheet. Where Castiel isn’t allowed to go.

“Dean,” he says then, seeing the hunter lying on the operating-table with blue sheets covering him. The robe they made him wear earlier is opened at the sleeves, allowing for them to put on some nabs on his chest. An ECG, Castiel understands.

As Dean looks up, his eyes are red, but his cheeks are dry, which means he’s doing everything he can to keep himself from crying. The first thing Castiel does is to put a hand on Dean’s hair – which is hidden underneath the cap. He leans forward until their faces are close, and he offers Dean a soft kiss on his cheek.

“I’m here, Dean,” Castiel says, not removing his eyes from Dean’s. The hunter – in turn – lets out a short laugh that gets mixed up with a sob, and then bites his lips.

“Man, I have to say I’m getting pretty sick of crying all the time,” Dean mutters out. “Also, I can’t feel anything, which is weird since I know they’re putting a tube through my-“

“I get the picture, Dean,” Castiel interrupts him, feeling the tears well up inside his eyes as well. “I’m glad you don’t feel anything.” Which is the truest thing he can say right now. Dean is not going to survive this surgery, but at least he’s not in pain. That gives him even the smallest bit of comfort he can have right now.

“I’m just glad you’re here,” Dean says. He wiggles his nose a little bit, clearly uneasy with the oxygen-mask they’ve given him. Castiel smiles again through his tears. Then he leans forward and presses a small kiss on his lips, feeling Dean return it only softly.

They sit there for ten minutes longer until the doctor finally announces they’ll begin. Both Dean and Castiel nod, unable to see anything through the blue sheet they’ve hung in front of them. It may be for the best, really. He wouldn’t want to see how they cut open his husband. When he feels somebody standing next to him, Castiel looks up, finding Hannah there. Right, she’s here, too.

“Will you take the boys when they’re out? Just for a little while? I just… I don’t know if I can-“

Hannah holds out her hand, signaling for him to stop talking. He can’t see her mouth from underneath the mask, but he can make out from her eyes that she’s smiling, even just slightly.

“Of course, Castiel. Take all the time you need,” Hannah says. Then she nods at both of them and makes her way to the other side of the table, followed by Samandriel, who nods at them as well. Dean lets out a long breath, sniffing once but unable to stop his eyes from crying. Castiel reaches for his face, wiping the falling tear away gently.

“I hate this,” Dean gets out, trying to laugh but failing and instead sobbing even harder. “I don’t feel like a man at all anymore now that they’re trying to cut babies out of me.”

Castiel chuckles a bit but doesn’t say anything in return, instead passing his hand more over Dean’s cap and softly caressing his head through it.

“Cas, I-“ Dean starts, but then a high shriek comes up in the room, making him stop on his words and turn his head so abruptly. They can’t see anything, but they know the first one is there.

“We got Jonah out,” Dr. Pine says. Dean lets out a long breath, sounding relieved to say the least. But as the doctors pass Jonah on to Hannah, something dark seems to pass through Dean. The monitor that is hooked up on the naps on his chest starts beeping even faster, and Dean seems to have trouble catching his breath. Hannah stops in front of Dean, shortly showing off their first son, still covered in fluids and blood. He’s crying, looking unhappy at being outside, but just the sight of him is enough to make something in Castiel’s chest flutter.

That’s their boy. Their first born.

After those few short seconds, Hannah moves on again. But the further she gets away, the more distressed Dean seems to be getting. He’s literally crying now, tears streaming down his face and sobs getting uncontrollable.

“I can’t- I can’t even hold him,” Dean cries out then, squeezing his eyes shut as his forehead is pressed against Castiel’s chest. The Angel feels his heart break at Dean’s pain. There’s nothing else he wants more than to bring Jonah back and put him in Dean’s arms, but Dean can’t move anymore. He won’t be able to hold him.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Castiel returns, crying just as hard as his broken husband. After that, a second shriek comes out into the room. Dean, who had been just crying, now seems to be panicking completely. The color on his face is now completely gone, he’s continuously out of breath, and the monitor next to him is going insane. Now that the twins are out, there’s nothing there to keep Dean alive. Nothing there to heal his body continuously.

“And here is Alan,” the doctor say, but he sounds a bit worried there. Even from where Castiel is standing, he can hear him mutter to the other doctors in the room. “I think she’s getting a heart attack. Get the crash cart here.”

Samandriel passes with Alan then, shortly showing the small baby in his arms. Alan, just like Jonah, looks tiny, being born only 34 weeks after the conception. Still, to Castiel he appears healthy enough, and even the nurses around them are questioning them being only 34 weeks. It must be a Nephilim-thing, Castiel figures.

“They’re so beautiful,” Dean whimpers out through his tears. He’s wheezing, sobbing, and now the monitor is letting out an annoying alarm. The doctors are starting to shout in panic, calling out orders to get the chief of cardio in here. They’re repositioning the blankets, pulling away most of the things to make Dean’s chest clear.

“She has a right ventricular rupture, her heart is bleeding out,” one of the surgeons says. Castiel can barely hear them, his focus only on Dean, who is staring at him with big reddened eyes.

“Cas,” Dean begins, and Castiel leans forward. He knows he’s going to be taken out of the room soon, and it’ll be so many years until they’ll ever see each other again. He needs to say his goodbyes, no matter how much he doesn’t want to.

“Dean, I’m here,” Castiel says, keeping his face close to Dean’s. There’s so much noise going on around them. The nurse is already urging him on to get out of the room.

“Cas, I-“ Dean starts, but then he starts coughing. One of the surgeons takes Dean’s head into his hands and keeps it lifted. When drops of blood spill out of Dean’s mouth, the man takes a paper towel and cleans it away again.

“Dean, I’m so sorry,” Castiel gets out, feeling the wetness roll over his cheeks. He can’t believe this is happening. This whole room is a chaos, Dean is dying, and their sons are in the next room, being cleaned off by Hannah and Samandriel.

“Take care of them,” Dean begins with a soreness in his voice. “Love them with everything you have.”

 

 

Castiel nods, trying to smile but the hard stinging in his chest prevents him from doing that. It hurts, all over his body, to see Dean lying on the bed like this.

“I will,” he promises. When Dean lifts his head up a bit, Castiel gets the message and offers him a short but meaningful kiss. It’s a wordless promise that they’ll see each other again. A promise that this is not the end forever, though it might be on Earth. A promise that Castiel will live on, no matter how hard it will become. “I love you,” he then whispers against his lips.

When he pulls back again, Dean’s eyes are closed, and for a moment Castiel fears the worst. But then, suddenly, Dean looks up again, offering him a small smile.

“I love you, too,” he says. And that’s the last thing he gets out before his eyes close again and the monitor lets out a continuous beep. Castiel stares on, ignoring the small pushes he’s receiving from the nurses. He starts shaking his head, not removing his gaze from Dean.

“No! Not yet! Dean not yet!” Castiel starts to shout, realizing he’s probably getting mad by grief. He barely keeps himself from pushing everybody around him away, meaning that he’s already having some distance between Dean and him.

“Sir, we need to perform an emergency surgery, you need to leave the room,” one of the nurses says, but Castiel doesn’t know who. He tries to push away from them, but he wouldn’t succeed in it without hurting them. So, after a little while of struggling, he stops, giving Dean one last glance before letting himself being led out of the room.

Somewhere else in this building, there are his two sons. But he can’t bring himself to go to them. Not yet.

 

* * *

 

 

_Meanwhile_

“Gadreel…”

The Angel doesn’t look up as Sam calls out his name for what almost feels like the hundredth time. He is still kneeling on the floor, no longer hugging Abner’s dead body against his own but now instead just staring down at him with empty eyes. Sam has already noted that he has stopped breathing, but since Angels don’t really need to breathe in the first place that’s not something he should be worried about.

Sam knows he’s no longer in unwarded territory, and that the Angels might come back soon. But even if Sam would be safe in Dean’s room, Gadreel would still be in risk. And with the Angel’s lack of mobility, he’s an easy target. Sam can’t have another Angel’s life on his shoulders.

“Gadreel, come on, the Angels might return,” Sam tries again, repeating himself once more. The one time he had actually tried to pull Gadreel away from Abner, the Angel didn’t budge one single bit. When action didn’t seem to work, Sam switched to words, but now that plan seems to be failing as well.

After ten more minutes, Sam gives up at last. Instead of returning to the room, he drops down on the ground with his back against a wall. His eyes are still glued on Gadreel’s unmoving form. The entire floor has been evacuated. The patients have been moved, and the nurses and doctors are relocated.

The entire room is a mess. There are chunks of walls missing. A few lamps are hanging from the ceiling, ready to fall. There are marks of burned wings all over the place, and even one nurse has been unlucky enough to be too close to an Angel that just died and ended up with a big wound on her back. Last Sam knows, the doctors nearby took her to a room and probably started cleaning it up.

Sam knows this mess is his fault, no matter what way he tries to put it. Everything that happened here in this room is still a result of his foolishness. Both Cas and Dean tried to warn him, but he ignored them. Now he only wishes he hadn’t. Then at least all these innocent people wouldn’t have been hurt because of the war between Angels.

The ping of an elevator makes Sam look up in surprise. He had actually forgotten the thing still works. He doesn’t stand up to see who it is, but he is surprised when it’s Cas, walking his way with hunched shoulders and eyes looking down.

“Cas?” Sam asks. He just needs to know.

“The moment the boys were out, Dean’s heart gave up. They’re performing surgery on him now,” Cas mumbles in explanation. He lets out a long sigh when he drops down next to Sam, and his eyes move to the ceiling. He never looks at Sam, but the hunter can understand, seeing the tears welling up in the Angel’s eyes.

“Maybe- maybe he’ll pull through?” Sam tries, but he knows it’s just false hope. The way Dean looked lately, he knows that, if not his heart, the rest of his body would start to fail.

Cas lets out a long breath, sniffing once through his nose. With his hand he rubs away a tear, ready to roll over his cheek.

“He started crying, when they passed with the boys,” Cas begins, voice starting to shake even more. “He just wanted to hold them so bad.”

Sam knows that the stinging in his eyes are his own tears. Dean’s sadness over having the boys in his arms is something Sam would have expected for him. He’s always been so good with the kids, would have been an excellent father – one much better than their own father had been.

The fact that he doesn’t even get a chance to prove that… it tears Sam up inside.

Sam doesn’t know what to say to him, so instead he takes Cas’ hand in his own, and squeezes his fingers. He doesn’t let go at all finding that he doesn’t mind the contact one bit. Sharing the pain doesn’t make it easier, but knowing that somebody’s there for each other makes t just that slight bit bearable. Only just slightly, though, since the stinging in his chest doesn’t really go away.

“Have you seen the boys yet?” Sam asks in an attempt to change the conversation. He’s not too surprised when Cas shakes his head in defeat. There’s so much emotion on his face that Sam would never have expected to see. With lots of effort, Sam pushes himself from the ground, pulling Cas along with him.

“Sam, what are you-?” Cas starts, eyes open wide and mouth fallen open when he doesn’t finish his sentence.

“Come on, you need to see them,” Sam explains. Cas doesn’t try to pull back, but it’s not like he’s actively following him, either. They move to the elevator, checking the board with the place indications, and then steps inside.

It takes a bit of looking around, and they have to ask for directions from the nurses a few times, but eventually they find themselves to a hallway with a big window in the wall. There’s a door at the end of it, but neither have the intention of getting inside. They come to stand in front of the window, looking down at the cribs currently inside.

There aren’t many occupied, but that’s probably because of the evacuation. Sam wouldn’t be surprised if they tried to move the patients that can be relocated. It’s only safer, that way. Sam’s eyes go over the different babies lying there, trying to catch one crib with a familiar name on it.

“They’re not here,” Cas mutters lowly after a few seconds of looking, and it takes only a little longer for Sam to realize that he’s right.

“They’re probably still being cleaned?” Sam tries, but he can see that Cas isn’t listening anymore. He’s once again resting his back against the wall, dropping down in one swift motion with his elbows resting on his knees.

Sam takes a moment longer to copy his movement, he just needs to give it one more look, to be sure that there are no little Winchesters in there.

But before Sam can sit down next to his brother-in-law, a voice calls out for the Angel. Sam turns around immediately, seeing a young man standing there. Sam recognizes him as Samandriel. He’s wearing a blue apron around him, and his hair is hidden under a blue cap, but Sam would recognize that face anywhere.

The Angel nods his face inside the room.

“Come and meet your sons,” Samandriel says before disappearing back into the room. Sam almost expects Cas to jump up immediately and to follow his brother inside, but once again the Angel surprises him into doing the exact opposite.

“What’s wrong, Cas?” Sam asks, kneeling down before him and putting a hand on his shoulder in comfort. Cas looks up with glassy eyes, appearing like he hasn’t slept in two weeks. It’s a horrible look, and it’s quite saddening to see him like this.

“I can’t- Dean wanted to hold them so bad, and he just couldn’t,” Cas begins breathily. “What gives me the right to hold them when Dean can’t?”

Something aches in Sam’s chest upon hearing the Angel so defeated. All the hunter can do is squeeze his shoulder and let out a long breath.

“You’re their father, too. You have just as much right to hold them,” Sam says. He moves his hand onto Cas’ wrist, and he pulls him back on his feet. “Now go and meet your sons, if not for yourself, then for Dean, who wanted nothing more than for you to love them.”

Sam doesn’t know for sure if Dean said something of the like, but it would be him completely. He would only wish the best for his children, and for his husband. And Sam is going to do anything to see Dean’s final wish come true. Cas is going to be a great father to these boys, and they will make sure they won’t ever be involved in any hunting at all. Even if that means Sam has to give up as well.

There’s a little resistance when Sam tries to pull Cas along, but eventually he goes with it. When they enter the room, Samandriel and Hannah – at least, Sam suspects it’s Hannah since she’s in a different vessel now than since last time he saw her – are already standing next to what looks like an incubator. There are two little forms inside of it, completely covered by the sheets they wrapped them in. Their heads are covered with tiny hats, and there are a few cables appearing from under their covers. They have little nose-masks above their lips. Next to them, a monitor is catching their heartbeat in noiseless motions.

Sam can’t remove his eyes from the twins lying together. One of the two seems to have released his arm out of his bundle, and has wrapped it protectively over his brother. Sam can’t help but chuckle at the sight of it, recognizing his brother in him already.

“That’s Jonah,” Samandriel says when he notices what Sam is looking it. “He was born about three minutes before Alan.”

Sam gives him a short look, and then nods.

“Do they need those cables, or can we unplug them?” Sam asks. Samandriel throws Hannah a short look, and the woman gives the other Angel a short nod. Then she turns and turns off the machines before removing the naps that were put on their little chests.

“They are stable enough to go without, I would say,” Hannah says shortly. She then puts her hand underneath Alan, and she picks him up from the bed without any trouble. She almost makes it look like he’s as light as a feather, but to her he probably is, too. “Do you want to hold her, Castiel?”

Sam turns around then, finding that Cas is still a good distance away from them. There’s a dark look on his face, but Sam can see his anger is not directed at Hannah. Instead, his eyes are resting on Alan, who is sleeping on peacefully, arms still safely wrapped in his bundle.

“Cas?” Sam asks, wondering what would distress the Angel that much. Cas twitches a bit, but relaxes his shoulders again after a few seconds.

“I’m sorry, it’s just- I hadn’t noticed before,” Cas says in a defeated voice. Sam raises an eyebrow, throwing Alan another short look but not seeing anything out of the ordinary.

“You can’t see his Grace, can you?” Hannah asks before Sam can ask for clarification. Cas just nods shortly, still not moving towards his son and sister. Hannah, in turn, nods as well, giving Alan a long look and resettling the little hat he’s wearing. “I can see your Grace in him,” she then starts.

Cas isn’t moving at all, not showing at all if he’s listening. But Sam knows he is, he doesn’t need to show it.

“I see it more in Alan than I do in Jonah,” Hannah continues. “But it’s there, bright and strong, waved together with bits of Dean’s soul. But the part of Dean looks like Grace as well, and it’s so familiar.”

“Familiar, how?” Sam asks. Hannah turns her head to him and opens her mouth.

“Since Dean is Michael’s true vessel, it looks as if it’s Michael’s Grace and Castiel’s Grace mixed together, but at the same time, it isn’t. It looks like Michael’s, but at the same time, it looks completely different.”

Now that information is a little bit disturbing. Just imaging if Sam had a Nephilim, instead, it would have looked like Lucifer’s child. If Angels hate Nephilim already, they would have truly despised that kid.

“It’s _not_ Michael,” Cas mutters with a biting tone. Sam notices he’s taken a few steps forward, but he’s already standing still again, now right next to Sam.

“Like I said, it looks like it, but at the same time it’s clear it’s not his,” Hannah says. Then she takes a step forward to get closer to Cas, and she holds out the baby in her arms.

Sam can see how much Cas is hesitating right next to him. It’s clear he wants to take his son in his arms, to hold him close and to never let him go, but apparently Dean is still on his mind. It’s not like Sam doesn’t understand, so he’s not going to urge the Angel on to just do it.

Instead he asks: “Can I hold him?” His head is tilted to the side a little bit as he waits for Cas’ reaction. The Angel gives him a grateful look, and then nods, watching closely as Sam carefully maneuvers himself into taking Alan over from Hannah.

He finds, quickly, that the kid _is_ light indeed. He weights almost nothing in his arm, as if he isn’t even there, which makes Sam extra careful as he moves around.

“Hi there,” Sam starts, making sure Alan’s head is resting on the crook of his arm, hand holding tight to what must he his legs, safely bundled up in all those covers. “My name is Sam, and I’m your uncle.”

As if Alan can understand what Sam is saying, he seems to wake up and looks back at Sam with gigantic eyes that look exactly like Dean’s. Sam is a bit surprised, since babies often have quite dark eyes at first, but Alan’s are as clear as possible, almost making the hunter feel like it’s a miniature version of his brother resting in his arm.

Alan manages to free his hand from its binding, and holds it up at him, trying to reach for his face. Sam helps it a bit, lifting the boy up and lowering his head at the same time, until Alan’s fingers are finding Sam’s cheek.

He almost expected for something to happen, but nothing does. Alan’s warm fingers aren’t making him see images, and he doesn’t feel like there’s anybody else inside his head. Next to him, Castiel finally lets out a little chuckle, which almost startles Sam.

“He isn’t in control of his powers yet, so he won’t be able to do anything to you,” Cas says, coming to stand next to Sam at last, and holding out his own arms. Sam can’t help but feel happy at that, but before he can hand over Alan, Hannah makes a little noise.

“Here’s Jonah,” she says, holding out the second baby carefully. Cas stays quiet, hands clearly hesitating to reach out, but when Sam gives Cas a reassuring nod, the Angel finally goes for it.

There’s a clear change in Cas the moment he gets to hold his son. His shoulders seem to sag, his breathing gets heavier, and there’s a new wetness in his eyes that had dried up a little bit in these past few minutes. He looks exactly like the proud father he’s supposed to be now that Jonah is in his arms.

“They’re so beautiful,” Cas whispers out, allowing for Jonah to grab onto his finger. Jonah is a bit more active than Alan is, and Sam thinks back of what Hannah said. There’s more of Cas’ Grace inside Alan, which must be the reason why he’s so much more calm than Jonah, who is already swinging around his father’s finger before releasing his other arm.

It looks like Cas is about to say anything else when somebody catches their attention behind them. Both Sam and Cas turn around, finding Anna standing there with a saddened face. She doesn’t have to say anything, only has to shake her head, and that’s explanation enough of what has happened.

Wordlessly, Samandriel and Hannah take the boys back over from the two, and they put them back in the incubator. The moment they’re out of their arms, Cas and Sam run out of the room. Sam doesn’t know where Cas is going, but he’s sure the Angel knows the way.

Nobody says a thing as they run on the staircase, and they almost run over a few of the nurses that are leaving the room Cas is headed to.

“Mr. Winchester!” one of the nurses calls out, but both Sam and Castiel ignore her. With a slam, Cas opens the door again, but Sam doesn’t follow him immediately. Getting in will mean that it’s permanent, definite. Anna didn’t say anything, but the shake of her head had been enough. But, to get inside would mean that he would see the proof that his brother didn’t make it.

“Mr. Winchester?” somebody asks next to him. Sam turns around, finding a man next to him, still dressed in his operation scrubs. It’s probably the doctor. “Do you have a moment?”

Sam just nods, unable to let his voice talk.

“Your sister had a right ventricular rupture right after the twins were taken out. Normally, if we find it quickly there’s no trouble in stopping it. Now, with your sister’s weakened state, her muscle was weak. We couldn’t close the rupture since it reopened every time. And while we worked, it was clear that her other organs were failing as well There was nothing more we could have done.”

It all passes right by him, words not really finding its mark. Sam just nods instead of answering him. He takes a deep breath, and then heads inside the room, finding Castiel standing there, unmoving as he stares long at Dean’s lifeless body.

“Dean,” he breathes out, his feet getting him forward to where his brother is lying. His lips are trembling, his eyes are stinging, and as he tries to reach out for Dean’s face, he finds he can’t control his shaking hands.

The tears are streaming out of his eyes now. He’s standing right next to Dean, opposite Cas, and he grabs a hold of Dean’s shoulder, lifting him up a little bit and holding him close.

No words manage to leave Sam’s mouth again. The feeling of Dean so close to him should have been enough, but he feels too cold. There’s no more life in him. No more stupid remarks to give to him as Sam sobs against his head, letting Dean’s face rest on his shoulder.

“Please, no,” Sam eventually gets out, pleading to a higher force. He knows he has given up on God, but there’s something they’ve got to be able to do. There’s no way Dean’s gone, forever. This is not the end, he will live. Surely, there’s something they can do, right?

And that’s when it happens. It’s just, quiet, spoken in a low voice, but Sam is sure he didn’t mishear it.

“Hello, Death,” says Castiel, who is looking straight ahead of him, looking like he’s not really here at all.

Meanwhile, all the way back in Wyoming, Rowena realizes it’s time. No Angel appears to stop her, and when Crowley’s soul is sent back to the pit, the gate at the graveyard explodes. At last all Hell breaks back loose on Earth.

But Rowena can’t bask in her glory for long when Inias finally appears – too late still – and snaps the Witch’ neck. But even he can’t hold back the demons that are already pouring back out on Earth.

 

* * *

 

 

“Hello Death.”

Castiel can only catch Sam looking back up, before everything around him seems to stop moving altogether. Castiel can easily catch the stopping of time, having felt it before. It’s a weird feeling, to see everybody standing still as he can just walk around freely. It’s not a power Angel’s possess – though maybe Archangels, do. Castiel isn’t that sure about it.

He doesn’t look up, but he’s aware of the Horseman that has joined them in the room. The last time Castiel has seen him, he had been under the possession of endless souls and he was close to be killed by him.

Looking Death up had been high on all their lists, but they all agreed that reaching out to him could be dangerous for all of them. So, having him here now, in the very room where Castiel can’t remove his eyes from his dead husband, it’s really not something any of them could have expected.

“Castiel,” Death greets him in a calm voice. Castiel can hear that he’s on the other side of the bed, probably right next to Sam. So the Angel finally looks up, staring the man right in the eyes and feeling that coldness pass over him again, like it does each time he has contact with him.

“You’re here to collect Dean’s soul, aren’t you?” Castiel asks. There’s no other reason he can be here, right? He is, after all, still a reaper at heart. He controls life, and since one has ended here, and Castiel didn’t feel a reaper coming by already, it must be that.

“As a matter of fact, I did send away Tessa to do this myself,” Death explains. He lets out a long sigh as he takes in Dean’s dead form, and then he reaches out his hand towards the hunter. The moment his finger touches Dean’s skin, a cold feeling passes through Castiel.

“Cas?” a voice asks behind him, and the Angel turns around, seeing his husband once again standing there. He looks pale, and still extremely skinny, but the curves that he had are gone, and his voice is once again low. This is the way Dean was supposed to be, instead of stuck like a woman.

“Dean,” Castiel says, finally moving from his spot next to Dean’s bed to get the hunter into a strong embrace.

“Did you see our boys, yet? Are they alright?” Dean asks as his face is stuck between Castiel neck and shoulder. On the table next to them, Sam’s frozen body is still holding on to Dean, in quite a similar way now that Castiel thinks of it. 

“I saw them,” Castiel tells him. “I held Jonah in my arms, and he was beautiful. And Alan, he has your eyes. Though he is much calmer than Jonah, but according to Hannah there’s more Grace inside of him than Jonah.”

Castiel knows he’s rambling, but he’s got the feeling like he has to get it out quickly before Death makes it final. Dean needs to know how perfect their sons are, since that’s the only thing he’s allowed right now.

“Alan has more Grace… you think he’s the one the Prophecy’s about?” Dean asks, frowning a bit. His arms are still grabbing a hold of Castiel, but there’s once again a little distance between them.

“I don’t know, it is possible,” Castiel answers. He hadn’t thought of it that way, but coming to think of it, it is the most logical answer. He then turns his head towards Death, who is just staring at them without interrupting them. His face is neutral, his hands are resting on his cane. For a moment it looks like he’s frozen as well, but then he lifts his eyebrows.

“If you’re about to ask me if I know which of your sons will be the next God, I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you. I’m against _spoilers_.” There’s a light smile on his face, and then he takes a deep breath that he doesn’t need. “Now, are you ready, Dean?”

“No!” It’s Castiel who calls it out. He comes to stand in front of Dean’s spirit, shielding him away from the Reaper in front of them. He knows he’s defenseless even if he had his Grace at full power, but it seems like a reflex he can’t control. “No you can’t take him.”

“You would rather have him stay here, turn into a spirit? Wait until he turns vengeful and goes after your brother, the Archangel?” Death asks instead. There’s something weird in his voice, as if he’s toying with them. Castiel doesn’t know what his intentions are.

“N-no,” Castiel then mumbles out. Dean steps away from Castiel back and comes to stand right next to him again.

“That’s what I thought,” Death says. Then he steps towards Dean, and holds out his hand for Dean to take. There’s a slight moment of hesitation before Dean finally reaches out his own hand as well. But right before he ever gets to reach Death, the Reaper pulls away again.

“You know, I never thought the day would arrive where Dean would just willingly come along with me without complaining,” Death then says, turning back around and making a few steps forward. He rests on his cane when he stands still, looking as if he is in deep thought.

“God wants me dead, it’s out of my power,” Dean mutters out with a shrug. His eyes find Castiel for a moment, but his expression stays grim.

“Does he?” Death then asks. Both Dean and Castiel then frown, finding themselves a bit confused. Of course he does, right? Gabriel and all the others have been so intent on keeping them from rescuing Dean. It must have been God’s will!

“I’m not sure I understand,” Castiel finds himself asking. Next to him, Dean is taking a deep breath, still used to it despite not needing it anymore, since he’s a ghost. Looking at him hurts Castiel, but the idea of him not being there anymore at all hurts even more, so he’s at least grateful to have this for as long as he can.

“Deus Ex Machina, I think it’s called? On the very last moment, an act of God rescues the heroes, and makes them win their battles. Only, God works in mysterious ways, doesn’t he?”

It takes a few moments for Castiel to process what Death is saying. He has such a calming voice, but the way he speaks this all out is almost as if he doesn’t really agree with anything he’s saying. He doesn’t look all too happy, either.

“You mean you’ll-“

“God doesn’t want you dead, but he did want you to face reality that you’re not all powerful,” Death says in a sigh, eyes pointed towards Dean. Then he walks to Sam, who is still holding Dean’s dead body. Castiel feels the hunter flinch right next to him. “He wanted to be sure that you would accept your fate, only then would he let me do this.”

“But- there’s no logic in this?” Dean asks in confusion with his arms lifted in the air. “It makes no sense?”

“It makes perfect sense,” Death corrects him. “There’s a long path ahead of you that you’ll need to follow. If he can’t be sure that you’ll see it through, there’s no point in keeping you around. But, as it appears, the children would have an advantage at having you alive. It was more of choosing between two options.”

“So he needed me obedient, or he didn’t need me at all,” Dean mumbles out bitterly. Death lets out a small smile, barely visible, but then he starts wiping dust off his suit.

“You seem to have this idea that your son’s fate is the worst that could ever happen,” Death notes. Castiel throws Dean a short look, trying to see an emotion in it. But Dean stays expressionless, pale and tired. Castiel doesn’t like this look on him.

“They deserve a normal life, a normal childhood,” Dean says in his defense. Castiel finds himself nodding in agreement. Alan and Jonah need to grow up peacefully.

“And what makes you think that they won’t grow up normally?” Death then asks. He raises his head, big dark eyes looking straight into Dean, almost as if he’s reading him. Dean lets out a soft breath, but he doesn’t respond. “They’ll grow up as normally as is possible for two Nephilim. It’s your job to raise them right, as well. But, when it comes to it, you should be able to let your kids go and have their own lives. Isn’t that what any parent has to go through, eventually?”

He does have a point there, really. It’s every parent’s destiny to one day have their kids move out of the house. Castiel wonders if he had been thinking about having them in the bunkers for the rest of their days. Surely, the two would like to see the world around him, to find love, to marry, have a job, kids… There’s a lot that can happen on their way.

“So if we agree to your terms, you’ll bring me back?” Dean asks after a long moment of silence. Castiel is sure he’s been thinking the exact same thing.

“Ah, but those are not my only terms, I mean, I told you God’s terms, but not my own. If God is going to ask a favor of me, at least I should get something out of it as well.” Death turns away from the operation table, making their way to Castiel and Dean and coming to stand right in front of them. Castiel catches a glimpse of Death’s ring when the light shines on it. He’s still holding his cane tightly, despite not needing it at all.

“Name them,” Castiel says, since he’s obviously looking at him instead of Dean.

“There won’t be any healing, ever,” Death says. Next to Castiel, Dean is about to protest, but then Death holds up his hand to silence him. “After I’ll bring you back, every sickness, every wound you get, it has to heal the natural way. The moment you’re healed by _anything_ supernatural, I’ll come to take you myself.”

Castiel grits his teeth together. He gives Dean a short look, figuring that this means the end of Dean’s hunting career. For ever. Castiel can’t risk him getting hurt again. Can’t risk losing him again.

“Fine,” Dean says after a short staring match. It comes out in a snap, and he’s clearly not okay with it, but what else can they do? If that’s all Death asks, then Castiel is sure Dean will give up hunting forever.

“And secondly,” Death starts, eyeing Castiel with his big black eyes, “I’ll have your Grace.”

And that’s where it seems to become too much for Dean.

“Wait, what? No way, Cas isn’t going to give up his Grace for me! He doesn’t know how to be human!” Dean protests, but his words fall onto deaf ears since Death has all his attention resting on the Angel in front of him.

“Gabriel didn’t _really_ need to cut back your Grace, but he did because I asked him to,” Death starts explaining. “For these past few months, you’ve been practically trained to be human. Losing your Grace, entirely, will still feel different, but in the end you’re probably used to most things now.”

Castiel stays quiet as his mind tries to process it all. Next to him, Dean is still disagreeing and throwing out protests. Castiel can’t remove his eyes from Death, who keeps on staring back at him. He knows it’s hardly a choice at all, really. Dean comes before anybody else, and if this means that he’ll get to grow old with him, it’s something he’ll take along, gladly. He doesn’t mind dying in the end. He doesn’t even mind if his stay in Heaven is as a soul instead of an Angel. As long as he is with Dean, and as long as they can have Sam around as well, it’s all good for him.

And if his own son is God, surely they’ll be allowed to see other souls, right? Or maybe Alan or Jonah will change Heaven entirely and will allow the souls to roam around freely as they want? There are so many possibilities here, almost too much to name. Really, giving up his Grace only has a plus-side. There’s no downside. At all.

“Okay,” Castiel finds himself saying right in the middle of Dean’s speech. He doesn’t have an idea what Dean is saying, but it’s probably more protests. But it’s Castiel’s choice, in the end.

“Good,” is all Death says. He doesn’t give him more time to pull back, no time to change his mind. Death reaches out his right hand towards Castiel’s cheek, touching his skin with his surprisingly warm fingers. Castiel finds himself closing his eyes.

“Cas, no,” Dean begs of him.

“Please, Dean,” Castiel counters. “I’d rather be human with you, than Angel without you.” That’s when he feels the block on his Grace lifting at last, giving him his power back for just such a limited time. He wonders, only briefly, if he can get away in healing Dean again right before Death takes it all away, but he decides quickly not to test it.

 

 

The return of his Grace is just a matter of seconds. After that, there’s only pain. It starts with his wings, feeling as if they’re burning on the spot. He grits his teeth together, keeping himself from crying it out. Tears are forming in his eyes, his hands are balled in fists. But the longer the wings burn, the more it hurts, and eventually Castiel can’t keep upright anymore and drops down to his knees.

Death doesn’t remove his hand from the Angel. When Dean calls out for him, Castiel can’t answer. The tears are now rolling over his cheeks, the scream coming out of his mouth hurting his throat so much he wonders if he’ll ever be able to talk again.

After a long while, the fire in his wings seem to disappear. His entire body starts heating up, but it’s not burning entirely, only stinging inside his chest. He can feel his heart racing faster, and he seems out of breath almost immediately.

Castiel doesn’t know how long they’ve been going at this, but after what feels like years, Death removes his hand and Castiel almost falls forward on the ground before Dean holds him back. The hunter is asking him questions Castiel can’t hear, since his ears are now ringing and no sound really comes through. He takes a long look at his hands without really knowing why while he gets his breath back.

Then Castiel allows Dean to pull him back up. The ringing in his ears is already subsiding, and with Dean’s assistance he can stay up, but eventually he leans himself onto the operation table. Dean won’t be able to hold him for long, now, since his spirit is going back inside his body now.

Death isn’t there anymore, but when Castiel turns his head, he finds that Dean isn’t, either. He wonders how long he’s been standing there trying to regain himself. The only reason he realizes time is moving forward again is when he hears Sam’s voice.

“Death? What are you talking about?” Sam asks, dropping Dean’s body only slightly. Castiel, still breathing deeply, offers him a short smile. His entire body is aching, but he doesn’t regret being human one single bit when he catches the rise and fall of Dean’s chest. He’s twitching his fingers again too. So, instead of saying anything because of his sore throat, Castiel nods towards his husband, who is still held tightly into Sam’s arms.

The hunter looks down, eyes widening when he sees Dean’s not only back into his normal male form – though he’s still extremely skinny and pale – but he’s also breathing again. Sam quickly presses his fingers against Dean’s neck, trying to find a pulse in there somewhere, and when he finds it, he lets out such a relieved breath that the new tears in his eyes can’t be of anything else but happiness.

“I’ll get the doctor,” Castiel gets out in a whisper. But before that, he takes Dean’s hand in his own, lifts it to his lips, and then he presses a soft kiss against his fingers. After that, he’s back into the hallway. Now he just needs an excuse as to why the doctor’s patient suddenly changed genders.

 

* * *

 

 

“STOP!” Azrael cries out as Gabriel holds out his blade above her head.

They have no idea, really, how long the battle has been going on. They charged towards each other, both of them ready to kill, but nobody really managing to make the final blow. Gabriel doesn’t need to look around him to see that the entire forest around them is destroyed. If this is the result of an Archangel fighting a regular Angel powered up by the Tablet, he wonders what would have been left of Earth with two Archangels.

Even now, Gabriel held himself in enough to make sure the land around him doesn’t suffer too much from it, but after a while it was clear that the sacrifice was necessary. Trees could grow again, a dead Angel can’t

Well, uh, not unless their father says so, that is.

“Gabriel,” Azrael whispers out through the blood coming out of her mouth. They both look horrible, ready to drop down on the ground and rest their wounds off for a few centuries. Azrael looks worse than Gabriel, but the Archangel, too, has a few massive wounds in places where the blade almost its mark. His side still hurts from it, but that’s all it will do; hurt. It won’t kill him, at all.

“Please, don’t tell me you’re going to try to appeal to my humanity?” Gabriel asks, still holding Azrael by the collar of her dress. The blade doesn’t drop down an inch. She’s not going to get him hesitating. She’s been playing this far too dirty.

“Gabriel, please, it’s me! It’s Azrael,” the Angel says with a shaky voice. Much to Gabriel’s surprise, Azrael has started crying. Her tears mixes up with the blood on her face. She’s literally shivering underneath him. For a moment he wonders if this is still an act. Even Azrael – the evil side of Azrael – can’t show _this_ much emotion, right? Even if it’s just for show?

“Prove it!” Gabriel says, but even he doesn’t know how she could manage that. Instead, Azrael sobs even harder.

“I can’t!” Azrael cries out loudly before turning into a sobbing mess. That’s when Gabriel loses his grip on the Angel for just a brief second. When he realizes she’s not running away from him, he lets go of her completely, lowering his blade as he keeps a close watch on her.

“Talk,” Gabriel says, needing to hear her story. She’s been the one he wanted to talk with, in the first place.

“It- It hurts!” Azrael lets out while falling forward. Her hands are pressed against her chest, and she doesn’t seem inclined to stand up quite soon. Gabriel is almost tempted to pull her up again. “They just- they just killed her, and then I killed all the others! I just couldn’t stop!”

So Azrael might be losing it completely. Gabriel wonders how long this side of Azrael has been dormant. She seems to be aware of everything that happened, but clearly she’s still grieving. She never got over her – or his? – daughter’s death.

“You have to end me, Gabriel. If you don’t, she’ll go after the twins, and she’ll kill them off,” Azrael tells him as she comes to sit up again. She doesn’t look any better at all, if possible even worse.

“I won’t let her,” Gabriel says. He doesn’t want to kill her, at all. He would rather have her put into the dungeons, next to Metatron. He can still do that, just fly her over and lock her up. And this is what he explains to her, only to receive the shake of her head.

“You’re willing to die?” Gabriel asks. Azrael nods strongly.

“Cassia and Norelia are dead. There’s no possible way for me to see my daughter again, and my wife won’t ever want to hear from me again. There’s no life left for me anymore, Gabriel,” Azrael explains. “Every day without them hurt so much all these millenniums. I don’t want to live one more day of it.”

Gabriel thinks it over. To put her back in a cell would be torture, if this is how she experiences life now. It’s a wonder the other Azrael has managed to go on years with this side stuck inside of her. Maybe she would have been better off with no emotion left in her at all.

“Gabriel, please!” she begs of him once more. Gabriel bites his lips. It would be the right thing to do, really, to put her out of her pain. He walks forward again, eyes looking downward as he prepares his blade for the blow. That’s why he doesn’t catch the switch in Azrael’s expression as she disappears again, making way for her other self.

There’s pain when her blade goes through his stomach, and a gag leaves Gabriel’s mouth as blood starts to make its way up, trying to find a way out. He notes that the blow isn’t fatal at all, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. His right hand, still holding on to his own blade, swings around freely. Azrael seems so beaten up that she doesn’t see his movement. When Gabriel stabs it through her neck, her eyes only widen before glowing.

Gabriel grits through his teeth as Azrael’s Grace starts burning up from the inside. He lets go of the blade then, taking a step back and reaching for the weapon stuck in his gut. Azrael lets out her last glow, before branding her wings down on the ground, marking the end of her being.

It’s over now, Gabriel realizes, and that’s when he drops himself down on the ground, and takes a good look at the sky above him. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a problem to just stay here for a few days.

So Gabriel closes his eyes, and rests, next to the body of his fallen sister, who had been lost all those years ago.

 

* * *

 

 

_Lebanon Mercy Hospital  
Lebanon Kansas_

Dean Winchester wakes up twelve hours after being brought back into his room.

His recovery is considered miraculous, but nobody’s inclined to question it too much. There are no questions asked as to why Mrs. Winchester is suddenly Mr. Winchester, almost as if everybody cleared the staff’s mind of the C-section, and they all can’t remember it at all.

The first thing Dean is aware of when he opens his eyes is the body pressed against his, and the head resting on his chest. He doesn’t need long to figure out it’s Cas, quietly sleeping and not moving at all. Dean lifts up a hand and passes it through his husband’s hair, who doesn’t move at all.

 

 

Dean decides it wouldn’t hurt too much to sleep further for a little while. He’s extremely tired, so a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt.

Except, when Dean wakes up again, Cas is out of the bed, and the voices of Sam and Lauren are filling up the room. Dean only catches half of what they’re saying, but it looks a bit like they’re finally making up again – which is about damn time.

“Pulling your heads out of your asses, at last?” Dean asks with a hoarse voice. What he would do for a drink, right now.

He can see Sam and Lauren turn around the moment they hear his voice, and suddenly he’s surrounded by them, Sam on his left and Lauren on his right.

“Dean! You’re awake!” Sam calls out. Dean feels a hand touching his shoulder, and he appreciates the contact. It feels good. “How are you feeling?”

Dean squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, and then lets out a light chuckle.

“Like I’ve been trampled on by a horse,” he says. Then he starts coughing, and it immediately feels as if his chest is on fire. His hand reaches for it, and even over the fabric of his robe he can feel the bandages covering his entire chest. “What happened?”

“They did an open-heart surgery, but you didn’t make it,” Sam says. Dean nods.

“Yes, and then Death showed up,” he recalls, though it’s all a bit vague, really. “Where’s Cas?”

“He’s with the boys. He goes to see them every time somebody else comes to your room. He doesn’t like to leave either of you alone for too long,” Sam explains.

“Yes, he’s been trying to convince the nurse into letting them stay in the room, but they don’t agree with it,” Lauren adds. Dean nods, taking in Lauren’s relieved face. With an effort, Dean lifts up his hand to take Lauren’s into his own, and then he offers her a smile.

“Are you going to be my sister-in-law at last?” Dean asks jokingly, trying to light up the mood. Lauren starts laughing, and Sam starts to protest, but eventually they fall silent again, and Lauren stands up.

“You two catch up, I’ll go and get Cas,” she says. Before getting outside, she reaches to give Sam a kiss – right above Dean, by the way, which is _so_ wrong – and then she’s out, leaving the two of them alone.

Sam brings Dean up to date about what happened the past few days. Most of the things Dean remembers, but there are a few things he isn’t that much aware of.

There’s good news, and there’s bad news, though. Azrael’s been taken care off, which is the best thing that could have happened right now, but on the downside, Hell has been reopened. Dean feels a bit disappointed about that, but he can see it eats his brother up enough already, so he doesn’t comment on it. Yeah, sure, it’s Sam’s fault that it happened, but there’s nothing they can do about it really, other than go through the trials again. Maybe that’s something they’ll be willing to do.

A lot of tears fall once Ca joins them back in the room. They share long kisses, they hug for a few minutes, and then the four of them just start talking about nothing much really, instead just enjoying each other’s company.

It’s three more days until Dean is allowed to leave his room. With Sam’s help, he’s put down on the wheelchair. His IV and urine-bag – yeah, that damn catheter is still there, sadly – are put safely on their designated hooks, and after that he’s brought to the elevator, and they’re making their way to the twins.

There’s no hesitation at all when they’re in there. Dean is wearing a blue protective apron now – mostly for the safety of the kids rather than his own – and he’s wheeled in front of the incubator, where two sleeping children are lying, bundled deeply into blue sheets. Cas picks up Jonah first, and Dean reaches out his arms, eager to hold him at last.

At first, Dean is smiling the entire time. He can’t help but coo at his son, whisper random things at him and watching him react. Jonah is sleeping through it, though. It doesn’t bother Dean, but he still tears up when he sees Cas with Alan in _his_ arms.

“Dean? Are you alright?” Sam asks from behind him when he hears the first sniff. Dean just nods, unable to smile all of the sudden as he inspects his boy deeply. It’s not that he isn’t happy anymore, but he’s suddenly so exhausted he would love to go back to sleep. He doesn’t say that, though, fearing that they would have to leave again so soon.

So instead he says: “I’m fine, Sammy. Never been happier in my life.”

 

 

And he knows he isn’t lying at all, so even if he can’t smile, and even if he feels like he’s about to fall apart and still has a long road of recovery in front of him, things couldn’t get much better at the moment, and that’s reason enough to be glad.

He has his family, and that’s all that that matters, really. 

 

 

~~~The End~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: temporal character death, non-graphic mentions of surgery, character death (not Dean), thoughts of suicide (kind of?)
> 
> Wow, I can't believe it's over. I mean, yes, there's an epilogue following up, but holy shit this was quite a journey! I would like to thank the readers who think this story is worthy enough for a read. I know there are still a lot of mistakes in it, and I'm going to work them out after the epilogue is posted, so still thank you for sticking around despite all those massive errors I didn't catch after the first proof-read. (I also didn't hear anything anymore from my second beta, so I'm on my own again)  
> I would like to thank Cheyenne (http://night-n-sky.tumblr.com/) for getting me through this and listening to me rant about the general crappiness of some chapters. Really, girl, you're a true sister, not by blood but still by heart. 
> 
> Please, point out any remarks, inaccuracies, etc. Tell me if you liked it/didn't like it. Also, believe me, I'm aware Crowley's end seems so sudden and unexplained, but I can promise you this is not the end of him. He'll come back in the following timestamps I've planned for after this story! :-)
> 
> Just a teaser, but the first timestamp isn't going to be the sequel just yet, but rather the non-explained honeymoon Dean and Cas had. Yes, all 50 days are going to be written down. The chapters won't be long, since they don't do exiting stuff EVERY day, but I figured a lot happened during the honeymoon, and it would be a shame not to share it.


	30. Epilogue

 

Gadreel stays invisible.

He’s been invisible ever since the staff started taking Abner’s body away. He stayed on the same spot until the cleaning-crew came in to clean away he beloved’s burned wings on the ground, and now he can’t really find himself leaving.

Most of the time he heads back down to the morgue, looking at the place where Abner is now lying, lifeless and cold. There’s no name on his door, just a simple ‘John Doe’ to make clear that he hasn’t been identified yet. But nobody will come and to that, either.

Gadreel knows that the Angels have left back for Heaven. After Azrael’s death, it turns out they all pledged their loyalty to Gabriel, the last remaining Archangel. He hadn’t been all too happy about that, but everybody knows _somebody_ should be in charge until Alan or Jonah can take charge.

At least he should be satisfied that his teenage vessel has been released, and that he’s back into his own, male form. Gadreel doesn’t really know how he reacted to it, since he’s been here ever since the attack.

Anna, Samandriel and Inias have tried talking to him, but he has to admit he shut them out while they talked. There’s nothing really that he wants to hear from them. Even when Balthazar came down to change his mind with banter and jokes, Gadreel ignored him. After a while, the Angels agreed to leave him be.

Sometimes Gadreel passes by the room where Dean Winchester is staying. Those moments he finds himself observing whatever is happening there. Most of the time, the human has visitors – Castiel, his brother and his girlfriend, the Prophet and his mother, Claire Novak, and even the sheriff from Sioux Falls. They’re always happy to see him, but Gadreel has already seen the exhaustion on the hunter’s face.

His body is broken, Gadreel understands. Much like the way Gadreel is feeling at the moment. Only, for Dean, there’s light at the end of the tunnel. Gadreel on the other hand wonders if there’s still any point in going on.

He doesn’t know how many days have passed already. He sees the twins sometimes whenever he passes them. They’re now in their own crib, but they’re ready to be moved to Dean’s room, as far as Gadreel knows. How old they are, he does not know. Nor does he care.

In the end it’s because of those two that Abner had to die.

But Gadreel doesn’t try to be resentful of them. It’s not like they chose it, either. Most of all, he’s angry at his father, who seemed to have thought involving them in this matter would be a good idea. They’ve been through so much together, but as long as they had each other, things had been bearable. Now that he’s alone again, Gadreel wonders if he can even still be considered an Angel. He doesn’t feel like one, anymore, feeling more human than anything.

He once thought love had been his father’s greatest gift to him, but now he’s not so sure about that. It hurts too much to be considered good. It eats him up inside, making the hole in his chest even bigger than it already is with every passing hour.

“Brother.”

Gadreel raises his eyes, but he doesn’t turn around. The person talking to him can’t be anything other than an Angel. Nobody else should be able to see him when he’s invisible.

“Gabriel,” Gadreel says shortly. His voice sounds too loud after being accustomed to the silence for a while. It’s the first time he spoke since Abner, but if Gabriel himself is here to talk, it’s probably important.

“You’re a mess,” Gabriel says to him. Gadreel is almost inclined to roll his eyes. He’s still at the morgue, staying close to Abner’s vault. He doesn’t know if he just needs to be close to him, or if he’s actually guarding his body.

“Hell is back on Earth, Heaven has suffered quite a loss, and my partner is dead,” Gadreel grits out bitterly. “Is there a point to you being there?”

“Yes,” Gabriel says. “Our Father wants to talk to you.”

That makes Gadreel look up in surprise. Only a few Angels have ever had the pleasure of seeing God, and he’s been gone for such a long time that Gadreel would never even have expected his return.

“Why?” he finds himself asking, but Gabriel is gone when he turns around. Instead, a man stands in the room. Gadreel notes that he’s wearing a brown suit jacket with a white shirt underneath. There’s a thick but short beard on his chin, and strong blue eyes are watching him with an intense gaze.

“Hello son,” comes out of the stranger’s mouth. Gadreel doesn’t answer, instead staring him down, aware that he might look threatening.

God looks down uncomfortably, passing his hand through his beard before lifting his head again. He opens his mouth to talk, but nothing comes out. When he then turns to look at Abner’s vault, Gadreel shakes his head.

“You don’t get to look at him,” he says, not caring if he’s forbidding his own father to look at his creation. There’s nothing here that would keep him wanting to stay alive, anyway. If God were to destroy him because of his disobedience, Gadreel wouldn’t really care about it at all.

“Oh, my son,” God then says, and then, all of the sudden, he’s standing right in front of Gadreel. The deity’s hand comes to rest on Gadreel’s cheek, and he gives him a long and sad look. “You shouldn’t have to be sad. Not after everything you’ve been through.”

Gadreel wants to say something back, but it seems like his mouth has dried up, and instead of talking, tears start to form in his eyes. Right, crying, another one of those human emotions. He hates it.

“Neither of you deserved this,” God then says, and then he lets out a long breath. Gadreel feels a strong wave of power going around in the room, and then Abner’s vault is suddenly springing open, and the table he’s resting on gets pulled out, revealing Abner’s body taking a deep breath again for the first time in days.

“What-?” Abner starts as he jumps awake, but before he can finish any question, Gadreel runs towards the other Angel and takes him into his arms, tears still running freely over his cheeks. He’s actually sobbing when he feels Abner’s arms turn back around his body, returning the embrace.

“Oh, my love!” Gadreel calls out, and then he pulls back a little bit, instead grabbing the Angel’s face between his hands and pressing their mouths together in a long kiss. Behind them, God lets out an embarrassed cough, but neither of the two really pull away for quite a long while.

After what must be many minutes, Abner gets himself off the table, taking a long look at his now-living body. His hands come to rest on his chest where he had been stabbed, and after finding no obvious wounds, he lets out a relieved laugh.

“Thank you,” he calls out towards their Father, who is still standing there. God just shakes his head and offers them a small smile.

“You two have suffered the most when I left,” he starts to explain. “I wasn’t angry at you two, just simply disappointed at the other Angels, and especially Lucifer. I should have stopped them from hurting you, but I didn’t, and I regret that.”

Gadreel and Abner nod at him in understanding. The past is in the past, and in the end they still have each other, the way it should be.

“Now if you don’t mind, I would like to release your vessels back to their own families, what do you think?” God asks. Gadreel gasps in surprise, not really catching what his Father is saying.

“But, then we wouldn’t be able to live on Earth?” Abner asks in confusion. God chuckles and shakes his head.

“No, you wouldn’t, that’s why I’m making a copy of your vessels so the four of you could just live on. I will clear their memories, and make sure that their families won’t question their absence. Is it alright by you?”

Gadreel and Abner give each other a look, and then they both just simply shrug.

“It’s probably for the best,” Gadreel admits. When God holds out his hands to both his children, Abner and Gadreel return the gesture. The moment they all come in contact, a bright white light comes up in the entire room, and that’s when Gadreel finally leaves the hospital again, luckily with his beloved still by his side.

Now there are still many dangers on the world, especially with the demons now returned to Earth. But they’re weak. They are dangerous still, but there’s still time until they start forming a real threat again.

So in the end, all is good for now, just as it should be.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. This story has been a rollercoaster, but it's still far from over. Stay tuned for the first chapter of the Honeymoon, which shall be posted later today.  
> I've also started cleaning out the mistakes from this story, hurray! Little details are changed that don't really go with the way the story eventually progressed. The changes aren't big, just enough to make it all logical again!


End file.
